


Changing the Angle

by Crysania



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 56,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from ripperblackstaff: Porn actors AU: With Gold as the director, Charming the cameraman, and Belle and Gaston as the actors. Gold falls in love with her and he’s very jealous of her partnerS. Belle can do so much better than porn - she wanted to do normal movies and Gaston led her into porn - and Gold wants her to feature in a movies with clothes and real acting but their previous movies pursue them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Another day, another thousand dollars. It was money in her pocket, money that could go toward bettering her life someday. Starring in adult films wasn’t exactly what Belle French had set out to do with her life. In fact, she hadn’t really set out to do _anything_. She had dreams, big dreams. College, acting school. Someday she’d be a star in all the great sweeping romantic dramas. The next Ingrid Bergman, only in a smaller package.

Gaston LeClair, her boyfriend of the time, had talked her into auditioning for a role in a movie. She was told she’d have to go topless for it, but it turned out they were looking for something a bit… _more_. She had been desperate for money and so when they convinced her to play along, to strip down, to get on her knees and wrap her lips around a stranger’s cock, she had done it.

Apparently she had done it so well, they wanted to hire her on the spot. Belle was tiny, but with an hourglass figure it turned out directors loved. She was _natural_ and they told her that there was a market for that. Men, especially the sect of men who considered themselves “nice guys” tended toward wanting the natural look, no implants, nothing fake about the girls. And Belle fit that perfectly.

Gaston had thrown a jealous fit when he found out what kind of movie he had brought his girlfriend to audition for and had stormed in to have words with them. The director liked his fire and passion, liked the look of the big burly ex-football player so much that he had offered him a job acting opposite her.

He told her he would make her a star and Belle had not found it in herself to refuse.

With three movies behind her and another one set to start the next day, she had begun getting used to taking her clothes off in front of people. She was numb to the sex. It was just another acting job that happened to involve nudity and bodily fluids. Gaston, of course, loved every moment of it. He was asked to work with other women, sometimes with Belle, sometimes without, and his buff body had put him in high demand. Men generally didn’t make as much in the field as women did, but he had acted in over half a dozen movies and was already making a name for himself.

She had broken the relationship off soon after starting this mess with him. It wasn’t because of the porn, not exactly. But she knew that this was the life for him. And for her? Well, she’d get out as soon as she could. Leave it all behind her. And that included leaving Gaston behind as well.

Belle arrived on set early that day, first running into their cameraman. David Nolan had been a star in his own right some years ago, before his costar, now wife, had turned up pregnant. That had scared them enough to get out of the business almost entirely. Mary Margaret had gone back to school, online classes, trying to find a career she could do where her former one wouldn’t haunt her. And David had gone from starring in a series of fairy tale based adult films to being the cameraman for the studio. Their director lamented losing him every day, but seemed at least somewhat satisfied with Gaston as his replacement.

“Hey Belle,” he called out to her as she raced past him.

“No time to chat. I’m afraid I need to get ready!” Belle had a routine. First yoga, then a shower, shave or wax if needed. She had someone who did her hair and make-up, made her look as fresh and young as she could. Belle was in her late twenties, but looked much younger, and so they played that up as much as possible. She couldn’t pass for the “barely 18” some wanted, but she still seemed young and innocent and it was something the director was all too happy to emphasize.

“Belle…wait…” David caught up to her, gripping her arm lightly to stop her as she strode away from him.

She turned back to him, her lips pressed together, eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like David, the one they all tended to call _Prince Charming_ behind his back, to be so grabby with the female stars. He generally was hands off, even during his days as a star. He had eyes only for his now-wife and so did his job with a sort of disconnect that she understood entirely.

“Our director was arrested last night.”

Belle’s eyes widened and she let out a rather unladylike curse. “Why?”

“Seems he had a little side business. Children.” Belle shuddered. “They dragged him out right in the middle of last night’s shoot.”

“Ruby must have been _pissed_.” Ruby was one of her closest friends on set, if one could say that about any of the other people that she worked with. Ruby was, at least, not competitive with her about roles. Belle didn’t really care much as long as she was comfortable with those she performed with. She wasn’t in this for the long haul, reminding herself over and over again that she would get out once she had enough money to get back on her feet. Ruby enjoyed the life and her body type was so drastically different from Belle’s, tall and slender where she was small and curvaceous, that they weren’t even really performing for the same audiences. Ruby was also willing to do _anything_ and Belle was, well, a bit more conservative about it all. Despite that, the director had liked her and so she found herself with enough work to keep her savings account growing.

“She was, but not over the lost shoot. You should have seen the words she screamed after him as the police took him away.” The tips of his ears turned bright red. David was a strange one, certainly not someone she would have pegged for being involved in the adult industry, not that anyone would have pegged _her_ for being involved either. She hadn’t watched any of his old flicks, though she knew Ruby and Ashley had spent some time with them, and she heard that he was quite _good_. The girls had certainly enjoyed it. For all her being involved in the adult industry, Belle found she actually didn’t much enjoy watching the work they produced. It was all fake and some faked it worse than others.

“So what now?” She needed the money from this shoot.

“New director.”

“Really?”

David nodded. “Yup. The studio had him on board almost as soon as they dragged King off. Best of the best, apparently. Gold.”

Belle’s eyes widened. “Of Gold Studios? I heard he was in retirement.”

“He was.” David leaned down close to her, quite a distance considering the difference in their heights. “Something strange went down there Belle. Gold lost interest in the business a _long_ time ago and got out nearly a decade ago. He’s been holed up for years God knows where. And he suddenly comes out of the woodwork for this one little film?”

“He’s not taking over the whole studio?”

David shook his head. “Nope. He has some special interest in _this_ film.”

“Current speculation?” She knew there would be plenty of it.

“None. The guy’s a complete mystery. No one even knows what he looks like.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure. This ought to be _very_ interesting.”

* * *

“Well, dearie, you’re just gonna have to _make_ it happen.” Gold slammed the phone down. He had been on the phone with his lawyers since before he even set this taking over of this film into motion. Oh, King was guilty. That much he knew. He’d had hackers getting into his computer for months, compiling evidence. When that evidence showed up on the DA’s desk late the previous afternoon, there had been no doubt of Albert King’s guilt. He had gone down quickly and almost painlessly.

Well, for the cops at least. King hadn’t seen it coming, had tried to protest, but the sheer amount of evidence of his guilt would likely put him behind bars for _very_ long time. Gold was no longer in the business, or hadn’t been until today, but that didn’t stop him from having a sort of visceral hatred for King. Anyone who took advantage of children like that deserved to be gutted. Jail for life would be too kind for that disgusting excuse for humanity.

And some considered _him_ the monster. At least the girls he’d had work for him had been of legal age and had not been coerced. King was not above manipulating and forcing people to get involved in his studio. The adult industry paid well. It was sometimes easy to manipulate someone who was in desperate financial straits. Gold well knew the look of a desperate soul and he believed King’s latest, a young woman with the stage name Lacey, was one of them.

She looked small, fragile, so tiny that he had no doubt she’d make him feel tall, but with curves that made it clear she was all woman. Her eyes were startlingly blue and he might have thought she was wearing contacts if it weren’t for the fact that everything else about her seemed natural. She was striking, but there was a look in her eyes that he recognized all too well.

When the clothes were on, during the setup, she seemed alive. She was sincere, believable. As soon as the real sequence started, as soon as the clothes came off, she shut down. She did her job admirably, there was no doubt about that. And he had found himself suitably aroused while watching her work. But there was a sort of deadness in her eyes as she did so. She wasn’t all there, her mind had simply cut out while her body did what was necessary to arouse the male viewership.

It had, honestly, been ages since he had been able to watch a pornographic film and feel the level of arousal he did while watching Lacey on screen. He had spent so many years directing the stuff that he was more worried about proper placement of cameras, of catching the right angles, of making sure his actors avoided making the ridiculous faces some of them made. After the car accident that damaged his ankle beyond repair, he had retreated to his home in a tiny little coastal Maine town and left the whole business behind. He had long since lost interest in watching other people have sex. And the pain in his ankle, the cane he was forced to use, had made him lose interest in the opposite sex all together. It was easier playing at being the town pariah, the recluse, the monster in the haunted house on the edge of town.

When that was your lot in life, you didn’t really consider dating a priority. Getting by. Not thinking about the shambles your life had become. _That_ was the priority. He had managed that much.

At least he had until he’d seen _Lacey_ and then found out about King’s repulsive preferences. He hadn’t quite felt this _alive_ since before the accident. He had a goal, something to do with his life that didn’t involve holing up in his large home, alone, and drinking until he felt nothing, until the pain disappeared.

* * *

Belle shivered slightly as she stepped into the prepping room. The start of a new film always made her a little nervous. She had gone over her lines, few though they were. She knew what she had to do. But the opening of it, the reminder that she would soon have to do this all over again always left her feeling a little on edge. She was used to it…almost.

But today felt different. Today there was a new director. Today there was _Gold_. She had heard of him, had watched a few of the movies he had put out back when he was active in the industry. His movies had come as close to art as pornography could and the actors were required to actually _act_. The stories were believable, the scripts often surprisingly romantic. There were no “hot pizza delivery guy” stories among them. The man had _taste_ and she found it very much a shame that he had abandoned his company just as it was at the top of the game. The industry could use more movies like his.

Rumors had run rampant at his sudden retirement. Even now, nearly a decade after he had walked off a set and closed down his studio, people speculated. He had gotten divorced from his wife Milah, the woman who starred in all his movies, soon after his departure and all suspected it had much to do with that. Milah had gone on to star in a series of films called _The Jolly Roger_ , which featured her, her new beau, one Killian Jones, and a number of men posing as pirates. The movies were crass, nowhere near the quality Gold Studios had put out. But from all reports, Milah was happy. And Gold? He disappeared off the face of the earth as soon as the divorce was final and the studio was closed.

Belle suspected there was more to it than just that. She knew next to nothing about Gold, but she had come to know Gold Studios well during her first days in the industry. She was a studious sort and even though Gaston has reminded her, over and over again really, that it was _just_ the adult industry, she still felt obligated to study up on the subject. And she had found herself wishing that she had gone to work for the already-defunct Gold Studios.

Albert King didn’t put out work as crass as Killian Jones did, and Belle had made sure to watch a couple of King’s, but the level was not as high as Gold’s.

Now she had the chance to work for him. Finally. After all this time. As she was prepped for the first scene, hair washed and brushed and curled, make-up applied, she wondered what he was like, what he looked like. She had never even found so much as a grainy photograph of the man. He was like a ghost, someone so far behind the scenes that he was only spoken of in hushed tones had never been photographed.

“Ariel?” Belle asked as the young woman wrapped her wet hair in a towel and led her to the chair where she’d work her magic.

“Hmmm?” Ariel was fiddling with brushes, combs, the hair dryer, mouth full of various implements to pin up bits of Belle’s long dark hair as she worked. Ariel was sweet, too sweet to be working for such a studio, but she assured Belle it was good money and since she did nothing more than hair, it was actually quite a prestigious job for one so fresh out of beauty school.

“Do you know anything about this Mr. Gold?”

Ariel paused for a moment and then resumed brushing her hair. “Not much,” she said with a slight shrug.

“But something?” Belle’s voice was hopeful.

“Not much, really. I…well, I heard he was difficult to work with…”

“Difficult?”

“Demanding. He wanted perfection.” She let the obvious rest of the statement hang. Perfection in an industry that involved the slap of body parts and more bodily fluid than Belle really wanted to think of. “There were a lot of complaints.”

Belle winced as Ariel found a knot in her hair and pulled. “I can imagine so.”

Ariel frowned as the brush hovered over Belle’s hair. “It was a long time ago.”

They both fell into silence as Ariel continued to prep her for the new shoot. She was more careful than usual, the rumors of Gold’s perfection obviously making her tense.

* * *

“Is he here?” Belle rushed into the room, stopping to speak to the first person she saw.

“He’s been here,” David muttered, lifting the camera carefully and shifting it a few inches to the left. “Been here and left it in a shambles.”

Belle looked around the room, at the unusual bustle. Under King’s direction everything had been set up the same way every time. A quick introductory scene was filmed and then it was on to the “important” part of the show. But now, cameras were being moved around, people were shouting back and forth, Gaston had been escorted out and forced to change into something more appropriate for the first scene.

She didn’t know Gold, but she could well imagine he had been here based on his reputation. Perfection. That was what Ariel had told her expected. Absolute perfection. Even years after he had left the business, his reputation preceded him.

It took another half hour for the cameras to be moved, the lighting to be changed, the set to be altered to fit what Gold wanted. People everywhere were cursing King for being a lecherous pedophile and leaving them in the hands of a tyrant. Belle would have found it amusing if she weren’t so nervous.

“What’s he like?”

David glanced at her briefly. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He stepped away. “All ready on set!” The words carried through the large space set up for the shoot, sending a ripple through everyone milling about.

“And here I thought you’d never be ready.” Belle whipped around at the sound of the unfamiliar, accented voice as everyone around her fell into silence. The groups standing around parted, allowing her a view of the speaker.

He stepped through the crowd carefully, using his cane to push anything on the floor out of the way of his uneven gait. She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the small older man with the shaggy graying hair. He was dressed impeccably, suit clearly expensive, tie perfectly knotted, matching square just barely peeking out of the pocket.

Belle had not been in the business long, but she was used to a director who wasn’t afraid to get hands on with his actors, stepping into the scene to position arms and legs where he wanted them. King’s clothes had been well-made but fairly casual. This man was clearly not the same sort. No one dressed in Armani stepped close to a sweaty, naked body.

As Gold stepped by her, Belle only had the impression of dark eyes and a hawkish gaze and then he looked past her. “I’m not one for pretty speeches. You know what to do. Get to it.” The words were curt, to the point.

Belle cringed slightly when his gaze came back to settle on her. “You’re my star?”

She tried not to be offended at the appraising look he gave her, his eyes strangely cold and intense. “I am.” She pulled herself up taller. Standing in her ridiculously high heels as she was, she realized she was nearly the same height as their new director.

“You’ll do.” And then he turned away from her and she realized she could breathe again, that the air that felt like it had been sucked out of the room was suddenly rushing back in. A little light-headed, she took up her place for the first scene.

It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning had been long and grueling. Quite frankly, it was worse than Belle could have even imagined. The setup had been simple and yet every time they got a few lines in, Gold was calling cut. The line wasn’t said with sincerity, the person was looking in the wrong direction, the camera angle was wrong. Gaston, who was used to simply blundering through a few lines and getting to the part where he got to take his clothes off, was getting more and more flustered. As the morning went on, his delivery of his lines got worse. No matter how much Gold railed against him, even limping out onto the set and reading the lines himself in his sometimes hard to understand brogue, Gaston simply didn’t get it.

It was near noon when Gaston smiled directly at the camera and read his lines in a sad imitation of Gold’s own accent. Belle turned and looked at the new director, her hand clasped over her mouth, eyes wide with horror. “Gaston,” she whispered. Her co-star was a hot-headed idiot at times. It was part of what had ended their relationship, though it was not the whole reason it had taken a nose-dive.

Gold was shouting cut and striding out into the middle of the set faster than Belle thought one who required a cane could move. “Mr. LeClair.” The words were soft but there was a threat inherent in them. Gaston didn’t notice. Of course he didn’t. He just stood up straight, towering over the much smaller man.

“Can we get to the taking our clothes off part?” The words were said with a great big grin, an arrogance he was well known for. Gaston didn’t enjoy acting. He enjoyed sex. And getting paid to have sex, sometimes with more than one woman was what Gaston loved more than anything in the world. Trying to come off as genuine in the opening sequence was not his forte, nor even his concern.

Gold just barely moved but in seconds, his cane was up and he smacked the impertinent fool hard on the leg. Cursing, Gaston grabbed his calf and stared at the man. His mouth hung open and Belle couldn’t help but let out a slight giggle.

Gold’s eyes flashed to her, quick and dark, eyebrows low. “You find this funny, do you Miss French?”

“I…um…that is…no…sir.” She bit her lip to stop another laugh and met his eyes square on.

“Good. I would hate to have to fire the lot of you.” He took a step toward her, leaning heavily on his cane. “You seem to be the only good thing about this production, Miss French.” His voice was soft when he said the words, but they still carried in the silence of the room.

Gaston started to speak but shut his mouth as soon as Gold turned to glare at him. At least the big oaf was _somewhat_ capable of learning.

After a moment in which everyone shifted from foot to foot and looked awkwardly at each other, at the floor, at everyone but their new director, Gold announced they would break for lunch. Never in any of her time in this industry had they broken for lunch before they had filmed at least _one_ of the sex scenes, but Belle suddenly realized it was after noon and she was starving.

“Mr. LeClair. “ Mr. Gold’s voice cut through the sudden hubbub despite its softness. Deceptively soft, Belle realized. He was one of those sorts of people who was subtle, all small movements and quiet rage, the type you had to watch out for. There were men, like Gaston, who got angry in large ways, all noise and fury. And then there was Mr. Gold. “My office. _Now_.”

She had known this was coming. His final insult to their new director would not be overlooked. It _should_ not be overlooked. He was out of line and everyone knew it.

As soon as he was called, everyone suddenly had _something_ to do, rushing from the room, talking in hushed voices. That left Belle alone with her former boyfriend. “Belle,” he said as he walked near her on his way to Gold’s office. “Come with me…please?”

At one point, the pleading tone to his voice would have convinced Belle to get up, to follow him. But no longer. She had stopped falling for his false puppy dog act a long time ago. Gaston cared for one person and that was Gaston. “You’re not using me as a shield, Gaston.” Belle’s voice was perhaps a bit harsher than she had intended, but it achieved the proper affect.

“Oh come _on_.” A second try. No more luck than the first time.

“You dug this hole. You’ll need to crawl out of it all on your own.” She glanced back down at the book on her lap. “Good luck.”

She could feel Gaston lean down close to her for a moment. “You never were any good, Belle.” And then he stalked off, leaving her alone with her book. She breathed a sigh of relief, though she was sure this little spat wouldn’t make working with him any easier. Truth be told, it had gotten more and more difficult to work with him as time went on. When they were still together, there was at least _some_ small spark. Not much, she would admit. She had never really loved Gaston. He was far too superficial for her to be able to fall in love with. But they had at least had somewhat of a physical connection. But lately? Even that had fizzled. Gaston, of course, had never known. Lube was easy to come by and she made sure that despite her lack of attraction, she was ready for her scenes.

Perhaps Gold would have some way around that, some suggestion, _something_ to help. Perhaps working with someone new could be inspiring. She needed _something_ to get herself through this movie, especially with the way her co-star was reacting to their new director.

Gaston was in with Gold for no longer than a few minutes when the yelling began. Ruby came rushing out of make-up, Ariel hot on her heels.

“What’s going on?” Ariel was the first to speak, putting her hand on Belle’s shoulder and leaning forward, almost as if the smaller woman could protect her from the shouting coming out of Gold’s office.

“Gaston’s in there,” Belle responded with.

“That much is obvious.” She could hear the mirth in Ruby’s voice. When Gaston got angry, he bellowed like an angry bull. There wasn’t much of a chance that _anyone_ didn’t hear him. “But…”

She didn’t get a chance to say anything further. Gaston came storming out of the room and took only a handful of steps before turning back. Gold stood in the doorway of the office, cane in one hand, leaning against the wall. There was a look to his face, one that Belle was wont to call _satisfied_. Yes, he was _satisfied_ with all of this, with this show, with Gaston’s anger.

“You’ll regret this, Gold.” Gaston’s voice was still slurred with anger.

“Oh I doubt that very much.” Gold still spoke with that small smirk on his face, each word clipped.

“I’ll sue you!” the younger man shouted back. “Sue you for every penny.”

“You were fired, Mr. LeClair. Anyone on set will attest to your inability to do your part.” He waved one hand in the air at the crowd gathering around. His eyes met Belle’s and in just that one small moment she could see sarcasm, anger, humor, and something else…something…darker…lurking there in the depths of his eyes. She couldn’t say what, really, and found herself shuddering as she looked away.

Gaston made a loud, incoherent noise and stormed off, knocking over anything that got in his way as he did so. David managed to grab onto one very expensive camera just before it hit the ground.

“Excellent save, Mr. Nolan,” Gold said, still in that same smooth tone of voice. “Miss French. I need to see you next.”

Belle felt her heart drop down into her stomach. This was it. Gold was taking over the studio and now the stars were being let go so he could replace them with people he preferred. She had done _everything_ she could that morning to make it all work, giving it her all. She loved those moments, really, the ones where she was just acting. It was what she wanted to do, after all. Acting…with clothes _on_. After over a year of working in the adult film industry, it almost seemed a novelty. It had been nice, really, spending all morning clothed and working.

She glanced quickly at Ruby and Ariel, noted their wide eyes. “Yes, sir.” She rose from her seat, slowly, carefully. Ariel reached out and grasped Belle’s shoulder, her eyes wide. “I’ll be fine.” Her face felt tight as she tried to smile at her friend. Truth be told, she was pretty sure she _wasn’t_ going to be fine.

* * *

Gold stood back as she entered his office, waving her in with the hand not resting atop his cane. He still wore that small smirk and that still left her unsettled. It was her turn. Her turn to face this dragon in his lair. And probably her turn to be let go. She wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t threaten. She’d make sure she didn’t even cry. She’d walk out with head held high, dignity intact.

As she entered the office, the door shutting behind her with a sort of finality she found she didn’t enjoy, she turned to find Gold studying her. She wouldn’t call his gaze calculating exactly, but assessing perhaps. “Oh don’t worry Miss French. I’m not doing the same to you. Mr. LeClair was a disaster. This production deserves better.” He stepped toward her and she suddenly realized just how close he was. One of his hands was slightly raised, as if he wanted to reach out and touch her. At the last minute his fingers pressed together and he backed away. “ _You_ deserve better.”

Belle felt a shiver go up her spine at the whispered words.

“I do?”

He made a small scoffing noise and moved to sit down in one of the chairs. “This office is ridiculously decadent.”

The change of subject startled her and she glanced around the room. She had never really noticed it before, had in fact rarely been alone with Albert King in the room since she was first hired. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

They fell into silence then and Belle could feel the oppressive weight of his presence as she glanced around the room, attempting to look simply idle instead of worried. She deserved better. That was something she supposed. She wasn’t sure that King ever thought she deserved better. In fact, she was often sure he thought she deserved _worse_ , constantly pairing up Gaston with other women and trying to foist the men new to the industry onto her. Gaston’s jealousy and King’s interest in keeping the large, burly man had kept them paired up, but she had known it was only a matter of time before he separated them.

Belle finally spoke. “I deserve better?”

“Back to that are we?” Gold said as he leaned forward, gripping the handle of his cane tightly in both hands, knuckles turning white. “Please, Miss French, sit.” He didn’t move his hands, but indicated the chair nearest to him with a nod of his head.

Taking a deep breath, Belle stepped closer to him and did as he asked. The chair was an awkward one to sit in, all expensive leather with a large, deep seat. To keep herself from simply falling back into it, she sat on the very edge. Her knee grazed Gold’s as she shifted and she heard him suck in a breath on a slight hiss. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s no matter.”

“Your knee?”

“What?” The word nearly exploded out of his mouth and Belle cringed.

She waved a hand toward him. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“I am not quite so fragile as all that, Miss French.” The words were clipped and she could _feel_ the iciness behind them.

“I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” he pointed out.

“I do.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth and saw his eyes gravitate to her mouth.

He licked his lips, cleared his throat, before he spoke again. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, eyes shifting to the side, avoiding his gaze.

There was a pause. “It’s not my knee.”

She looked back up at him. “No?” She didn’t know what else to say at that moment, waited for him to speak, waited for him to absolve her of this guilt. It seemed she couldn’t quite manage to say the right thing.

“You didn’t choose this career, did you?” For a moment, he sounded almost kind.

“How did you know that?” Even King had never known that. Only Gaston, who had dragged her into the career had known that she had gone in expecting to audition for a bit part in movie and come out agreeing, however reluctantly, to star in an adult film.

He tapped a DVD sitting on top of his desk. “Your movies.”

“Oh,” she said and felt a blush creep up her cheeks. Why she should find herself embarrassed at what she did in front of _this_ man was beyond her understanding. He was involved in the industry too, had directed countless videos of people having sex. She had nothing he hadn’t seen before, yet for some reason she wanted to be classier for him, not just another woman who spreads her legs on screen. Perhaps it was the suit or the elegant cane, or the way mischief danced just behind his eyes, or the strangely graceful hand movements as he spoke.

It might have been the accent as well.

_No_ , she amended. _It was_ definitely _the accent_. She couldn’t deny that one. Not even if she really wanted to.

“Yes…well…” He cleared his throat and Belle found it odd that he seemed almost contrite about it all. “I felt it necessary before I took over this venture.”

Belle’s eyebrows rose. “Before you…”

“You didn’t think the police just accidentally stumbled into Albert King’s proclivities, do you?” There was a slight sneer in his voice that Belle sensed went far deeper than simple disgust at what they all now knew King was into. Belle still found herself shuddering when she thought about it, about the times she had been in this room with him, had been touched by him as he manipulated the actors into proper position. It was downright creepy, that’s what it was.

“You knew?”

“I suspected.” Still that same smirk.

Belle leaned forward and reached out a hand to cover Gold’s. “Thank you.” The words were said on a whisper. His hand stiffened beneath hers and she drew away from him.

“So your career…”

“Right.” She took a deep breath. Another. There was a sort of tightness somewhere in her chest. The room seemed small, much smaller than it had a moment ago. “You’re right. I…Well, let’s just say I stumbled into this career by accident.”

“One does not end up in this industry by _accident_ , Miss French.” The words were flat, yet pointed.

“Then perhaps I’m the only one,” she shot back and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth.

For a moment he stared at her and then, finally, let out a small bark of laughter. “Someday I may ask you to tell that story.”

“Someday I might just tell you it.” Belle leaned back in the chair, her half smirk echoing Gold’s own.

“Why are you still here then?”

“You haven’t dismissed me.” He called her bluff with just one small raise of an eyebrow. Sighing, she spoke again. “Probably for the same reason many of us are here. I need the money.”

“Debts?”

“Not exactly. Just…poor. My father made some bad investments and lost his business many years ago. We’ve scraped by since then. When this opportunity came up…” Her voice trailed off. It really had been too good to resist. She was comfortable with herself, a bit awkward about the cameras at first, but it had been quick, easy money. It still was. And she didn’t have enough, never enough. She wanted a life, a career, a home. Maybe a family if this somehow managed to not pursue her for the rest of her life.

“Of course,” he murmured.

“When I’ve made enough, I’m getting out. Soon, I hope.” She gave him a tight grin. “No offense to you.”

“I’ve been _out_ for many years, Miss French. None taken.”

“Right.” She bit her lower lip again. “What happened there?”

A _look_ flashed across his face for a moment, lips pressing together, eyes narrowing, hands tightening on the cane he still held despite his seated position. And then it was gone, smoothing back in that same half smile, that same bland look of slight indifference. “That is, quite frankly, none of your business.”

“Of course.” Belle shifted in her seat, the creak of the leather the only sound in the room for a moment. She watched as Gold’s hands loosened slightly on the cane. “I wanted to do real movies.”

He was suddenly back with her, leaning forward, eyes intent. “Did you now?”

“I did,” she said with a small laugh. “A long time ago, I imagined myself as the star of action flicks. Can you imagine the adventure filming one of those would be?”

“I’m sure.” He was still studying her. She felt a bit like a bug under a microscope with his gaze on her, as if he were somehow taking her apart piece by piece as he watched. “You don’t look like the action type, Miss French.”

She allowed a small laugh at that. “No I suppose I don’t. But it doesn’t really matter now anyway, does it?”

He cocked his head slightly to the side. “Why do you say that?”

“After this?” She waved a hand around her. “I don’t expect to ever be taken seriously. The most I can hope for is enough money to invest and to fall into obscurity. Perhaps I’ll open some small business in a little town where no one has heard of me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count yourself out quite so quickly. You’d be surprised at how many famous movie stars started in this business.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. They sweep it under the rug of course, hire whole teams of people to cover it up. But still, it gets out.” The grin he gave her was wolfish. “Everyone simply ignores it and goes on with their day. The past is the _past_ , Miss French. You can leave it behind at any time.”

“Are you trying to get me to quit?” Her voice was a bit shaky as she spoke and she clasped her hands tightly together in front of her.

“Of course not. But I know you _want_ to.”

She scooted to the edge of her seat, leaned toward him. If she came a little too close to him, if she felt a little breathless at his proximity, she tried to pretend she didn’t notice. “How…how do you know that?”

He leaned forward, stance echoing hers. “I can see it in your eyes. You are alive, warm, _real_ in the openers. And then you do the rest of your job admirably, but anyone who cares can see you’ve tuned out.”

She shook her head. “And most people don’t care.”

“They’re only looking at body parts,” he confirmed.

“But not you?”

“I’ve long since stopped caring about such things.” His eyes traveling down her body, the way he licked his lips, led her to believe he hadn’t stopped caring as much as he claimed.

She wanted to point out that was highly unlikely, but instead opted to stick with more neutral territory. “So why did you step in and take this production over?”

There was a smirk upon his face as he spoke next. “My reasons are my own, Miss French.”

She gave him an assessing look. “Of course they are.” He had been a mystery in the industry for a long time. It seemed he intended to remain that way. “Then if we’re done here…” She let the words trail off.

“Oh, I highly doubt we’re _done_.” The words sent a shiver up her spine. “But for now? I suppose we are.” He stood then, using his cane to balance as he rose from the deep chair, and she was once again struck with curiosity about how he came by needing the cane. She didn’t ask, though. She knew he wouldn’t give her a straight answer, if he responded to the question at all.

She followed his lead, standing and stepping toward the door. His hand came to rest on her waist as he moved toward the door with her. The weight of it, the warmth of it, surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to touch her.

She certainly hadn’t expected him to turn toward her as she opened the door, hadn’t expected him to reach out and grasp her hand. He brought it to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Belle gasped as he did so, heat pooling somewhere inside her, and he dropped her hand as if he was suddenly burned by her skin.

“Well, Miss French…”

“Belle,” she whispered. “Please…my name is Belle.”

He nodded. “I do believe we have much to discuss about your career in the upcoming days.”

“We do?”

“Oh yes,” he said and the words were almost a sigh. “We’ll meet again soon.” And then he stepped back and let the door close between them.


	3. Chapter 3

When Belle exited Gold’s office she found several members of the crew staring at her, mouths slightly open. If she wasn’t so disconcerted by the entire conversation, she might have found it comical. As is, she dismissed them all with a glance and left the room to get changed.

There would be no more filming that day, not without their male star. Gaston was fired, gone. He had left the building shouting about how Gold would regret losing him, still ranting about how he’d sue him as security had walked him out. There wasn’t one person who was unhappy he was gone as Belle discovered quickly. Gaston had bullied the cameramen, hit on the makeup artists, looked down on the support staff. She never thought he was a _good_ man, exactly, but it seemed that being involved in the adult industry had gone to his head and he had come to think of himself as a bit of a God among men.

And so without one of their stars, production was halted. Auditions would have to begin for a new co-star and Belle had to admit she had felt a bit nauseous about it. She knew how this went. She knew Gold would want to see how someone looked with _her_ , which meant sleeping with countless men while he watched with a clinical eye, assessing how they looked together and how well the man performed with her.

She had never had to do it before, often thankful that she had come into the business with another person. But she had heard stories.

She didn’t want to be forced to find out firsthand how auditioning a new star went. But she also knew that refusing to do so would result in her career going the way of Gaston’s. And she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for that. She still needed the money.

David was the first one to approach her after her meeting in Gold’s office. “He didn’t try anything, did he?” He stopped her in the hallway on her way back to her dressing room.

“Try…what?”

“ _Anything_ ,” he said with a sideways glance that made it clear what he meant. David was a good man. He always had been. She knew he was only looking out for her, but it still bothered her just a little bit.

“What you saw was the worst of it.” She tried to push past him, tried to leave the conversation, but David was having none of that.

“He doesn’t have the best reputation…”

“He doesn’t have _any_ reputation,” Belle shot back. “He’s been out of the business for ages. How can anyone know what he’s like?”

David just shook his head. “I never worked with him, but I heard enough about him when Mary Margaret and I were making movies.”

“Well, I’m not concerned with that right now. He was a perfect gentleman.” She finally managed to push past him and he let her go that time.

She couldn’t really explain why she was angry at David’s presumptuousness, why his words had hurt her as if they were directed at _her_. She felt strangely protective of their new director. He seemed to see into her heart, seemed to _know_ her. She’d never met someone before who _got_ her from the first time they met. It was strange, a little unsettling. But somehow she was sure that meeting him meant good things for her future.

* * *

Three days. It had been three long days since Gaston had been fired. Belle had not been called upon to do anything for their new recruits. Gold had come to her, early the first morning, and informed her that she would not be needed until the final auditions, that they had a “stand in.”

She had been surprised, but at the same time _not_. Gold knew. _He knew_. She wasn’t cut out for this business and Gold, with all his experience, had picked up on it from watching her movies alone. The fact that he let her off the hook for auditions was surprising, but welcome.

It was lunch break on the third day when Ruby entered the lunch area and threw herself down in a chair next to Belle. She looked slightly ragged, dark circles under her eyes, the lines of her body etched in a strange combination of anger and exhaustion.

Belle reached out a hand to her friend and was surprised when she pulled away quickly from her. “Ruby, what’s wrong?”

“You don’t even want to know, Belle.” He voice was flat as she spoke.

“But I do…”

“Really? Are you sure? Because it’s your friend, Gold.”

“He’s not my…”

“He’s more your friend than anyone else’s. He has me _helping_ with the auditions for Gaston’s replacement.”

Belle’s eyes widened. “But…shouldn’t that be my job?”

Ruby gave harsh laugh. “Oh most certainly. And yet Gold doesn’t want you getting ‘worn out’ and so _I_ get to get worn out instead.”

“Maybe if I talked to him?” This wasn’t how Belle wanted this to go. This was _her_ job, after all. Her partner. It should be her in there seeing how they looked together, how they worked together.

Ruby snorted. “I doubt that will work.”

Belle cocked her head to the side. “It’s my _job_ though, Ruby. Why wouldn’t he listen to reason?”

“The man doesn’t listen to reason, sister,” came a voice behind them. Belle turned around and graced the new arrival with a smile.

“Leroy!” She stood quickly and gave the stocky man a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you around since this whole thing went down. I was afraid that…”

“Nah,” the gruff older man said, waving one meaty hand toward her. “They wouldn’t let ol’ Leroy go.”

“Well, good.” She waved at one chair and he sat.

“Only for a minute, sister. Gotta get back to work, you know?”

“Of course.”

“So what _is_ going on?” Ruby asked, leaning forward. “I know you hear everything that goes on.”

Between Ruby’s and Leroy’s stories, Belle was starting to get the whole picture. Countless young men had come in and landed in Gold’s office. The vast majority were dismissed quickly. No one knew what Gold said to them, but each left with a grim look on their face, some with an angry scowl. Only once had someone shouted something as he left, something about not being _good enough_ for his precious Lacey. He had come close to being hit with Gold’s cane.

A handful of them, more than Ruby would have liked, ended up having to try scenes with her. It made little sense, really. Ruby was nothing like Belle. She was tall, slender, willing to do almost anything on screen. Belle was far more conservative and built absolutely nothing like Ruby. Having her step in for her in auditions was ridiculous.

“I just don’t understand.” Belle shook her head. “It should be me.”

“There’s a reason it’s not, sister,” Leroy said, sharing a _look_ with Ruby.

“A reason.” Belle’s voice was flat as she spoke.

“Oh yeah,” Ruby said. “Jealousy.”

“Over _what_?” Belle shook her head.

Ruby leaned closer to Belle. “Please, you don’t think it’s obvious, Belle? He swoops in here like some sort of creepy Prince Charming, getting King arrested and taking over the production after being out of the industry for _years_. And in one day he’s fired Gaston and won’t find a replacement to work with you?”

“He’s looking for one” Belle pointed out.

“Right. Let me tell you how the auditions go. He brings in some guy, we do a perfectly good scene. Some of those guys are _hot_. A couple have been in the industry for a few years, really know their stuff. He calls cut, says ‘Thank you, you’re not what we’re looking for,’ in that snippy voice of his and off they go. Every single time.”

“But…”

“He’s not looking for one, Belle. I don’t know _what_ he’s doing. But he’s not looking for one, not for you at least.” She gave her a pointed look.

“But…”

“Jealousy, sister,” Leroy said. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Belle had no chance to respond to such crazy accusations before Ariel came to join them. The bubbly hair dresser looked well-rested, which was more than Belle could say for most of the crew, who were on pins and needles wondering when production would pick up, when they would begin work again, _if_ they would still have jobs.

“You look well, Ariel,” Belle said as her friend sat down.

“Getting paid to do no work? Can’t complain.” The hairdresser shrugged.

Ruby just snorted and Ariel’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Well, friends, I better get back to my job. More men to fuck. Oh joy.”

As Ruby strode off, Ariel turned to Belle, still with that confused look in her eyes. “What’s all of that about?”

“You don’t want to know. Look, I hate to run, but I think I need to go talk to Gold.” Belle stood and gave her friend’s arm a squeeze.

“Oh, right…of course,” Ariel responded with.

“Not you _too_.” Belle was exasperated. She had one meeting, _one_ , with their director and suddenly he’s a jealous bastard refusing to find a partner for her. “He kissed my damned hand, guys. That’s _it_. You’re reading far too much into this.”

As she walked off, she could hear Leroy and Ariel muttering to each other. For a moment, she thought about turning back to them, confronting them, but it just wasn’t worth it. Gossip in the industry was a well-established part of it all. Let them gossip. Let them believe whatever they wanted to. _She_ needed to talk to Gold about this ridiculous use of Ruby as her stand-in for auditions.

* * *

Belle threw open the door of Gold’s office without even knocking. She wasn’t going to give him a chance to school himself into that cool indifference he had shown her the last time she was there. She hadn’t seen him since that parting kiss on the hand, since his cool lips had caused a jolt of _something_. He hadn’t sought her out and she hadn’t tried to find him either. He would find her when he needed her.

But now she had something else to be concerned about. Ruby. Ruby was _exhausted_. And she was doing _Belle’s_ job.

When she strode into his office, the scene was much as she expected. Gold sat behind his desk, hands folded together, eyes that were both uninterested and assessing at the same time watching the couple on the couch. Ruby was there, bent over with one hand between her legs and a man who could not have been much older than 18 pounding into her from behind. Ruby had been in the middle of a moan when Belle walked in and the moan ended with a squeak and her name.

The young man faltered.

“Oh do carry on,” Gold said, waving one hand at the couple. “You’ll have to get used to distractions if you want to make it in this field.”

The young man, clearly uncomfortable with the turn events, gritted his teeth and returned to the task at hand.

“Much better,” Gold murmured. “Now Miss French, what can I do for you?”

Belle had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “What is _this_?” She waved her hand at Ruby and the young man with her.

“I believe that’s what’s called an ‘audition’ in this industry. I’m sure you’re familiar with it…” He let the words hang.

“You know that’s not what I was asking.” She tried to keep her voice neutral but she could feel the anger starting to creep in. “Why is Ruby doing this?”

“Because Ruby works for the studio.” He sounded guileless, absolutely innocent of any wrong-doing. But the smirk that graced his face told otherwise.

“ _I_ should be doing this.” She tried to ignore the fact that she actually did not _want_ to do it. But if it saved Ruby, if it stopped the gossip and the insanity of it all, then she’d take her proper place with whatever young men Gold trotted in for auditions.

“Come here, Miss French.” He crooked a finger at her and she found herself utterly powerless to resist the summons, stepping closer to his desk. “Good,” he murmured, reaching out and wrapping an arm around her waist. He drew her closer and Belle found it difficult to draw air into her lungs. “I have a new script for you.” He leaned toward her as she spoke, the words whispered into her ear. She felt a shiver go down her spine at the feeling of his hot breath across her neck.

“A script? What was wrong with the old one?”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Plenty.” He said no more, just placed the script in her hand and stepped away from her to address the other occupants of the room that, for a moment, Belle had completely forgotten about. “You’re dismissed, Miss Lucas.” Ruby pulled away from the young man, watching Gold with narrowed eyes. “And you…Mr…whatever your name is. Your services will not be needed.”

“But…” the young man started to speak. All eyes turned to him, standing naked next to the couch, still aroused.

“Ah yes.” Gold said. “Miss Lucas can finish you off, if she so desires. Otherwise, there’s a bathroom down the hall.” With that, he turned away from the pair as they tossed on their robes, gathered up discarded clothing, and fled the office.

“Was that really necessary?” Belle’s voice was tight as she spoke.

“Of course not,” Gold sneered back at her. “Nothing is ever _necessary_.”

Her eyes narrowed. “A little politeness goes a long way.”

“I’m sure it does,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Now, Miss French, it appears that you have a script to study, so run along then.”

“Run _along_?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him with all the anger her tiny frame would allow.

Gold sighed. “It has been a trying day, Miss French.”

“I’m sure it has.” The words came out before she could stop them.

He stepped toward the door and Belle stepped back, away from him, craving space. Whenever she was left alone with him it felt like the whole world was collapsing around them. He was not a large man, not at all, only a handful of inches taller than she was, yet it felt like he was the focal point of the whole world when she was alone in the office with him.

He sighed again. “Lunch, Miss French. Tomorrow. Erawan’s.”

“Thai? I didn’t take you for the Thai type, Mr. Gold.” She put her hand on the doorknob, turned, pushed it slightly open.

“Really?” She could see him look over her shoulder, no doubt at whomever might have been behind her. “And what, pray tell, did you take me for?”

“Fancy French restaurant? Waiters in tuxedos? That sort of thing.” Something that fit the expensive suits, the aloof demeanor.

“With a porn star?” And she could _hear_ the scorn in his voice, could hear it dripping from every syllable.

Words came into her mind, biting words, words with only four letters, words that might wound or destroy. Instead, she tamped them down and simply walked out on him. It was easier that way sometimes. She wouldn’t say something she would regret.

She heard the door slam shut and hoped it clipped his nose.

* * *

The knock on the door didn’t startle him, not exactly. It came exactly six minutes after he had made a complete and utter ass of himself. Pushing people away. That was what he was good at and he had succeeded again, the words coming out of his mouth before he could even stop them. And then she was gone, the door slamming shut in his face, almost catching his outstretched hand before he could yank it back.

_You wanted aloof, you idiot_. Yes, yes he did. Aloof, uncaring. Caring only got you hurt in the end. It might feel good for a time, but the end result was always the same. Alone, heart ripped to shreds. It was easier to be alone from the start. There was no pain that way, just longing. But _aloof_ and _mean_ were not the same thing.

“Yes, yes” Gold finally said, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Come in if you must.”

A moment later, the door moved, a timid sliding open of just a few inches. “Mr. Gold?”

“Come in, Mr. Nolan.” The door opened further and the younger man squeezed in. Gold gave a twisted smile. He knew David Nolan well, probably far better than the younger man realized. Nolan had never worked for him during his time as a star, though Gold couldn’t say he didn’t try to get him on board many years ago. But his study of him from years ago had given him a bit of insight into the man. “And how is your lovely wife these days?”

“I...uh…she’s well. In school. Trying to better her life.” David stammered over the words, clearly unnerved

“Indeed,” Gold murmured. “And what can I do for _you_ , Mr. Nolan?”

“Right...” The younger man ran his hands through his short hair. “What did you do to her?”

Gold smirked. “Her?”

“Belle,” David said and for the first time since meeting him, Gold watched him draw some inner strength, some courage, and stride forward. He leaned over his desk, put his hands flat on it. “She’s threatening to quit.”

“Oh is she now?” The calm remained, the outer shell, the smirk that others saw. “Why ever would she want to quit?”

“I don’t know. But she came out of here on fire. I’ve never _seen_ her so angry before.” David shook his head.

“Yes well…” Gold paused for a moment. “I might have…said something…that upset her.”

“Really?” One of David’s eyebrows rose.

“Let’s just say that she might be justified in whatever she says about me.” He closed his eyes for a moment. More than justified, really. She would be justified in taking his own cane and beating him to a pulp. She would be justified in quitting, in never having anything to do with him again. Not that she had had much to do with him so far. He had kept to his office, out of the way, _away_ from her. He wanted her. _Oh God_ did he want her. He went home in the evening, watched her videos, imagined her wrapped around him the way she wrapped around her co-star. They’d fit better together though. He’d take her from behind, bent over the table, have her straddle him, legs on either side. They’d _work_ together and the fire he’d seen in her when she stormed out made him want her all the more.

“I see,” David responded with.

“You don’t,” Gold shot back. “But that’s fine.”

David ran his hands through his hair again, let out a slight huff of annoyance. “Look, I don’t know what all of this is about. But Ruby’s mad that you’re using her for these auditions. Belle has locked herself in her dressing room after a few choice words that I have _never_ heard her say before. And there has been a parade of guys coming through who leave looking pissed off and clearly without a job.”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

Another deep breath from David. Gold could see him steeling his nerves to say whatever he had to say. The man was brave, that much he would give him. The women of the studio called him “Prince Charming” behind his back, so it was no surprise that he came rushing to Belle’s aid. “Is this some jealousy thing?”

“Pardon me?” Gold’s voice had turned soft again, dangerous.

“That’s the word on the street…well…studio…whatever…”

“I think my personal life is none of your business.” _Jealousy_. He scoffed as his heart took a small dive. He was simply looking for the right partner for the petite woman. Nothing more. _Jealousy_. As if he were capable of that emotion.

“It’s just that…”

“It has nothing to do with jealousy.” His eyes slid away from David’s briefly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Nolan. I have some audition tapes to peruse.

For a moment the younger man didn’t move, his hands still on the desk, but then he leaned forward just a tiny bit more. “If you hurt her, you’ll regret it.” Gold’s eyes met his for just a moment and his head tilted in a small nod.

David left then, apparently satisfied with the response. Gold leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands together, and breathed a sigh of relief. He would not hurt her…at least not any more than he already had.


	4. Chapter 4

Belle didn’t even know why she bothered showing up to the lunch date. Well, lunch _whatever_ it was with Mr. Gold. It wasn’t a date. It was _clearly_ not a date. She had contemplated simply leaving him there alone, wondering if she would show, wondering if she would even continue to work for him after what he said. His parting shot the day before hurt, there was no doubt about that. But it also left her so very confused over his actions. One moment he was kissing her hand, treating her as a gentleman would. The next he was treating her as if she were his whore, bought and paid for when he swept in to take over the studio..

The script he had handed her had gone untouched in her purse. She hadn’t had the heart to even so much as glance at it after their little…well…their little whatever that thing was in his office. She had put it away, found a good book, taken a soak in her bathtub and pushed her worries out of her mind as best she could.

The man was an enigma, a mystery with more layers than she could even begin to contemplate. She wasn’t sure if she was intrigued or if she wanted to simply run from the infuriating man. He had walked into their lives not more than a handful of days ago and already she felt like everything she had ever known had been sent into a tailspin. Gaston was out of her life for good. Oh, she knew he would find his way back into the adult industry. The industry _loved_ him after all, so it wouldn’t be difficult for him to approach another studio with some sob story about how Gold had let him go and be taken under wing quickly. Without Belle to hold him back, she was sure he could go as crass as he wanted to. But _she_ wouldn’t have to have anything to do with him, something she had thought would occur much further down the line than it had.

So despite all her misgivings, despite her anger and confusion, Belle showed up to the Thai restaurant Gold had invited her to. She refused to go down without at least a little bit of a fight, however. If he thought he could insult her and get away with it, really, the man had it coming.

She stepped in and saw him there already and was pleased to see him looking incredibly impatient, perhaps even a little bit haggard beneath the sharp-dressed exterior. She paused to study him before he noticed her, and was pleased to see him drumming his fingers on the table and glancing down at his watch. _Good then_. Let him worry if she was going to show up or not. He deserved that much and far more after what he had said to her. Really, he deserved for her to dump his drink over his head and be done with him.

With a confidence she hoped he couldn’t see she was faking, Belle swept in toward the table. Gold quit his fidgeting as soon as he saw her, standing as she approached. “Miss French.” He bowed somewhat formally and reached out for her hand. She snatched it back. Two could play at this game. “Of course,” he said with a nod. “Won’t you join me?”

“That’s the plan, isn’t it?” She slid her coat off and had to fight back a grin as she heard the strange choking sound Gold made. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and leaned forward. “Are you ok, Mr. Gold? Should I call for an ambulance?”

He glared at her as he took a sip of water and finally seemed to find his voice. When he spoke, it was a little more raspy than usual, the brogue just a tiny bit thicker. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

It was only then that Belle allowed the smile to creep across her face. She could be just as feral about her smiles as Gold was, if the occasion called for it. “I thought I’d dress the part.” It was her only concession to how much his words had bothered her since she walked out of his office the day before. They had had made her feel _dirty_. And she had _never_ felt dirty, not the entire time she had been involved in the industry. So instead of showing that ire or not showing up for lunch at all, she decided to defeat him at his own game.

“The part.” His voice was flat when he spoke.

“Exactly,” Belle said with a bright smile. Skirt so short that if she bent over everyone would have a view of thong she had worn for the occasion, tight corset, low cut blouse. She was almost falling out of it and if she leaned forward _just so_ she knew that he would catch a glimpse of her nipples. The outfit was so revealing it was almost ridiculous and under normal circumstances, Belle would have felt embarrassed to be seen in it. But not today. Today she was enjoying the way Gold’s eyes could not focus on her, the way he swallowed convulsively, the way he kept licking his lips. She leaned back in her seat. “Shall we order?”

“Order.” Still that same flat voice.

Belle bit her lower lip and smiled. “Yes. We _are_ here to eat, aren’t we Mr. Gold?”

“I…yes…”

“Well, good then.” And she raised her hand, waving the waitress over.

The woman gave her a _look_. She knew the look. She knew it meant no good. Then her eyes fell on Gold and they narrowed even more. “We don’t serve your kind here.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Pardon me?” The words were tight, but his eyes did not move off of Belle’s rather brazen form.

“Your _kind_ , sir.” The woman gave a rather emphatic nod at Belle. “If you would kindly leave…”

Gold refused to move and so Belle stood, glancing around the room. She was almost enjoying the show… _almost_. If it didn’t cut so close to home, she might have truly enjoyed it. Was a porn star really all that much better than a prostitute, after all? She certainly had her doubts about that. “You heard her, Gold.” Belle’s voice was almost sickly sweet as she spoke, but still loud enough to carry. “They don’t serve porn stars here.”

Gold was suddenly on his feet and she could _see_ the flash of fire in his eyes. His cane was in hand and she waited for him to use it. On her, on the waitress, on the patron who let out a snicker at the situation. And then he stood taller, turned far more gracefully than she thought someone who needed a cane would be able to, and walked out.

Belle followed behind, wrapping her coat tightly around herself, head held high. She had this moment at least. She fully expected it to blow up rather spectacularly in her face soon enough.

* * *

Gold had offered her a ride back to the studio and they had done so in silence. Every time she glanced over at him, his lips were pressed together, hands gripping the wheel tight, eyes staring at the road. He was angry. Oh, was he angry. She didn’t know him well, not yet, but every line of his body screamed with rage.

As they made their way back to his office, she tried not to smile. Actually, she knew she _shouldn’t_ smile. That little stunt might have cost her this job, but still. It was over and done with. She hoped her point had been properly made.

“Won’t you follow me to my office, Miss French?” Gold finally said as they approached the intersection that would lead them in opposite directions.

“Of course,” she said. Sweet. She was going for sweet, though she wasn’t sure if she succeeded entirely in that endeavor.

He opened the door and waved her into his office. Belle stepped through and started to turn back toward him. No sooner had the door closed than she found herself pushed up against the wall, one of Gold’s hands hitting the wall near her head, the one holding the cane helping to trap her there. “Now just what _was_ that about, Miss French?”

She took a breath, shallow, a little more rapid that she wanted it to be. She could feel the heat coming off his body, could feel his breath across her face. He was dangerous, his eyes dark and slightly crazed in the dim office. “You know,” she finally managed to say. He didn’t respond, just glared at her. “You want to treat me like a whore, then you’re going to have to deal with me in public looking like one.”

“You’re not a whore,” he finally said and released her, turning his back on her. As he walked away, gripping his cane hard, she could see his other hand shaking slightly. When he got to his desk, when he had something stable to lean on, he turned back toward her. “You’re _not_.”

“You seemed to think so yesterday.” She gave him a pointed look.

He shook his head. “My words were…”

“Rude?” Belle interrupted him with. “Disgusting? Horrifying? Abhorrent?”

“I was going to say unfortunate,” he said with a small wave of his hand. “But those are rather apt.”

“Why?”

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“ _Why_ did you say it? If you didn’t really mean it, that is.”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know.” He looked away from her and she knew. She _knew_. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen it before. She had seen friends throw walls up like this more often than she’d like to. It was common in the industry, really, where many people had come into it with some serious baggage. People didn’t talk about their lives outside, didn’t often talk about where they came from. Standard defense mechanism stuff. Even Belle hadn’t told many how she had come to be in the industry and why she stayed in.

There were so many walls around Gold’s heart and mind she wasn’t sure anyone could get through them. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to try, though a part of her, a teeny tiny little part of her heart went out to someone who had to keep enclosed in such thick walls. He had been hurt before. She was sure of it.

Belled backed away, found the doorknob behind her. “If you don’t want to say, then I’m just going to go.”

“Belle…wait.” He raised one hand up as he stepped back around the desk. Standing alone, leaning on his cane, without the desk as a barrier, he suddenly looked small and almost fragile.

She hesitated, raised one eyebrow, and just waited silently for him to continue.

“Please…just…look at the script I gave you.”

She felt deflated at his words for some reason, realizing she wanted something else in that moment but not quite knowing _what_ she wanted. She nodded, just a small movement of her head, and then slid out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

* * *

Belle wasn’t generally one to blow off steam, but sometimes that really was required. The aborted lunch date, if one could call it a date, with Gold, their argument, his nastiness, her reaction. And that moment where _something_ exploded inside her as he pushed her up against the wall and she could feel him pressed far too close to her. A _something_ that she couldn’t quite remember ever feeling with Gaston. Heat had curled around her and hadn’t let her go until she had left his office and had a chance to breathe in some fresh air.

That was where Leroy found her, leaning up against the building, taking in a few great gulps of air. The corset she had chosen to wear that morning still felt tight around her and though she had her coat on, covering most of her up, she felt cold and exposed.

The gruff older man stopped as he was just about to enter the building, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What did that bastard do to you?”

Belle met his eyes, just for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Come on, sister.” Leroy took a step toward her. “I know that look.”

“Do you, really?” Belle couldn’t help the smirk that broke out on her face.

“Hey,” Leroy said and she could hear the slight hurt in his voice. “Ol’ Leroy may not be much to look at, but I’ve had the occasional luck with the ladies.”

She smiled then. “Any lady would be lucky to have you, Leroy.” She meant it too. The studio’s handyman was short and stout, but he had a heart of gold. He would defend any of “his” girls to the death, if needed, probably wielding a wrench or hammer as he did so.

He shuffled his feet. “So you need to talk about it?”

Belle let out a small snort. “No.”

“Forget about it?” Leroy asked and she almost laughed at the hope in his voice.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” She gave him a slight conspiratorial grin.

“Good. I know just the place.”

“Plenty of alcohol?” Belle wasn’t the type to drink much, not usually at least, but she definitely needed to unwind and a bit of alcohol to numb the system seemed like it was the best medicine at the moment.

Leroy leaned forward slightly and winked at her. “Definitely.”

* * *

Belle had changed quickly, wanting to get out of the constricting reminder of her disastrous lunch date with their new director, and met up with Leroy at the exit of the studio. She had never been to The Rabbit Hole before, had always thought it was a bit of a dive bar, but Leroy assured her both plenty of alcohol and anonymity.

“Wait for us!” Belle turned and saw Ruby rushing down the hallway, Ariel closely at her heels. “You can’t have a girls’ night out without us.”

“It’s not a _girls’_ night,” Belle pointed out, nodding her head toward Leroy.

“Close enough!” Ariel said. Her voice was bright. Come to think of it, her voice was _always_ bright. Belle couldn’t remember a time when Ariel was anything but upbeat. And that was rather ironic, really, because Belle was usually considered to be pretty bubbly. She didn’t know when some of that disappeared. Perhaps it was when her father’s business went under or when he jumped on some lousy investments that bankrupted him. It was certainly _before_ she found herself in this industry.

Sometimes she missed those days, back when she was happy and carefree and her whole life was ahead of her. But at least she had good friends here. And those good friends were _exactly_ what she needed that night.

“So dish, Belle.” Ruby was the first one to speak when they got their table at The Rabbit Hole. The place was noisy, not yet totally packed, but the loud music was slightly overwhelming.

Belle shook her head. “Dish?”

“Oh come on. Mysterious meetings with Gold, storming out of his office, this whole thing with me auditioning men for you? What’s going on?” She waggled her eyebrows and Belle tried to laugh it off.

“Nothing, I swear.”

“Belle.” Ruby clearly tried to make the word a warning, but the big grin accented by the bright red lipstick she was wearing made her seem rather less fierce than she probably hoped.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I really don’t.” She quickly rehashed the story of his offering her the new script, the disastrous lunch meeting. She left out some of the more interesting parts. They didn’t need to know how her heart raced when he drew near her. They didn’t need to know how she had felt hot and cold and confused and _something_ when he had shoved her up against the wall in his anger.

“A new script, huh?” Ruby asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Ariel tossed in. “I mean, Gaston had basically _one_ thing he did over and over again. New guy, new script.”

“No more burly football players!” Belle said with a laugh. “I was so _sick_ of that script.”

Leroy made a harrumphing sound. “Why not short burly men? Why aren’t _those_ ever featured?” He had a sour look on his face, but Belle scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm rather awkwardly around his shoulders.

“Well, you never know Leroy. Maybe that’s what Gold’s looking for.” She winked at him before releasing him and scooting back. Leroy blushed to the tips of his salt and pepper hair and glanced back down at his glass. Belle _almost_ felt bad for embarrassing the man, but she knew he gave as good as he got.

“Oh I doubt it’s short and burly he’s after.” One of Ruby’s eyebrows was raised as she spoke and she had a knowing smirk on her face.

“No?” Ariel asked. Belle never could quite figure out how Ariel could sound so guileless after being involved in the adult industry for a few years, yet still she managed it.

“Can we talk about something else?” Belle interjected.

Ruby ignored her entirely, as she expected her to, really. Once the woman got something in her mind she simply _would not_ let it go. Even if she should. “Oh no, not at all. I suspect he’s looking for short, skinny, and…”

“Just stop,” Belle muttered.

“Crippled?” Ruby continued with. “Is that politically correct/”

Ariel’s face scrunched up. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, either way, I think Gold wants _Gold_ to star in this little film.” She elbowed Belle not quite gently in the ribs.

“Ruby.” She tried for a warning note to her voice, but came off as indulgent as ever.

“You know I’m right.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” Belle shot back.

“Really?” Belle could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

“Yes…”

Ruby shook her head. “Let’s just see this new script then, shall we? See what Gold’s up to once and for all.” She leaned over and Belle pulled her purse out of range. Ruby gave her an assessing look. “You haven’t even looked at it, have you?”

Belle grumbled something that was entirely incoherent in the loud bar.

“You didn’t?” Ariel asked on a gasp.

“Can’t blame her, sister,” Leroy spoke up. “I probably would have thrown it in the trash.”

“I thought about it,” Belle admitted. She had, really, for approximately two seconds. She still needed to work. But more than that, she was curious. He had fired Gaston and she suspected it was about _more_ than just his insolence. Gaston had simply made it easy to get rid of him right away. He was not asking her to participate in auditions. He had something new for her, something different.

“Well, you have it here now, so hand it over, woman. I want to see this thing.” Ruby held out her hand and Belle sighed. There wasn’t really going to be a good way around this. Ruby was truly demanding when she wanted to be.

“Fine.” Belle pulled the new script out of her bag and tossed it at Ruby. Within moments, both Ruby and Ariel were bent over the script.

“Ooo,” Ruby said, glancing up at Belle for just a moment.

“What?”

“ _Ghost of a Chance_. This could be pretty kinky.” Belle shook her head. Ariel giggled. Leroy just rolled his eyes.

“I did not need to know that.” _Kinky_ was not really what Belle specialized in. But he did say… “Oh God.”

“What?” Ruby leaned across the table. “Come on, girl. Tell me.”

“He told me I ‘deserved better’ at our first meeting.” She thought about letting her head sink onto the table.

“Deserve better than what?” Ariel asked.

“I assumed Gaston.”

“Well, maybe he thought you really deserved better porn?” Ruby’s eyes were bright with excitement. Belle just groaned as her friend set to flipping through the script. It was strange watching her as she did so. Ruby’s eyes were narrowed as she started to read, a slight furrow between her brows. Then she skipped a few pages, then a few more. As she quickly flipped through the pages to the end, her eyes got wider and wider.

“This does not bode well,” Belle whispered to Leroy.

“You said it, sister,” the older, gruff man responded with.

“Belle,” Ruby finally said and her voice was somewhat breathless.

“Do I even I want to know what depraved things this man wants me to do?” This time she did allow her head to fall on the table, a dramatic gesture she didn’t usually make.

“Oh Belle.” There was something in Ruby’s voice. A softness, a sort of awe. Belle wasn’t sure what, but it caused her to look up and meet the other woman’s dark eyes. “This isn’t porn. This is a _real_ script.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was the second…third?...time Belle had stormed into Gold’s office. She was fast losing track. Had it really only been a handful of days since King had been taken away and Gold had stepped in? Her whole _life_ felt like it had changed. And perhaps it had.

The script. It was _real_. No taking off her clothes, no sex at all. She had googled it that night after she got home from the bar and discovered it was based on a play that centered around a strong woman, her fiancé, and the ghost of her former lover. A real story.

She didn’t understand what was going on at all.

Gold pushed her away with crass mentions of her current career then gave her a script that took her _out_ of that career. Was it all a sick joke? Some twisted thing his mind had come up with during his years out of the industry? No one knew where he had been. He had, almost quite literally, disappeared off the face of the earth.

And that made her curious. She could not deny that. She was _curious_ about the man, even if he were an infuriating enigma. She was even more curious now that she held a real script in her hand and yet had his rather harsh words about going to dinner with a _porn star_ stuck in her head.

When she walked into his office, he was seated at his desk, papers spread out in front of him. He seemed to be in deep concentration but as soon as the breeze from the door opening ruffled his hair, his head shot up. “Ah, Miss French. I did wonder when you’d be back.”

She slammed the script down on his desk. “What is this?”

He smiled, that sort of smirk that screamed of arrogance and secrets. “I would have assumed you’d know what a script is by now.”

“I know what a script is.” Belle’s voice was tight when she spoke.

“Then I don’t see the problem.” He looked away from her, back down at the papers on his desk.

Belle shoved the script further across his desk, rather violently if she did say so herself, scattering papers. The script ended up in Gold’s lap.

He looked up at her again, eyebrows slightly raised. “Was that really necessary?”

“Of course not,” Belle responded with, keeping her voice tempered to a rather sickly sweetness. “Nothing is ever necessary.”

Gold let out a rather dramatic sigh. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“You did.” Belle smirked, crossed her arms over her chest.

She watched as he picked up his papers, carefully sorting them and placing them on the desk. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking impatient or annoyed. When he finally finished, placing the last crumpled paper on the top of the pile, he glanced back up at her. “I told you that you deserved better.”

“You did,” Belle repeated.

He plucked the script off the desk, long-fingered hands turning it back around toward her as he did so. “ _This_ is better.”

“This is not…”

“Porn?” He smirked as he said the word. “You’re right. It’s not.”

Belle shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Another sigh from Gold as he stood, gripping his cane and limping slowly around the large desk. Belle held her ground as he came to stand in front of her, refusing to back off, refusing to look nervous of his nearness. He stood so close she could feel the heat emanating off his body. He looked strange, slightly feverish, his gaze intense for just a moment before the look disappeared and one of his customary smirks graced his face.

“I told you. You deserve better.” The words were whispered and they sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped just a hair closer and one hand rose slightly.

Belle backed away, turned her back on him. “I still don’t understand.” Her voice was quiet in the silence of his office. Only the sound of his cane hitting the ground as he took another step toward her was louder.

“Belle.”

The way he said her name…there was something there, something beyond the usual sarcasm and anger and the dismissive tone she had heard out of him so far. She turned back toward him. “Why are you doing this?” He started to speak, but she held up her hand. “Don’t give me that same line about my deserving better. You don’t even _know_ me.”

“I know you far better than you think I do.” The words were soft, but strangely earnest.

Belle’s eyes widened slightly. “How?”

He made a strange little noise in the back of his throat. “You’re an open book, dearie.”

“Am I?” She raised one eyebrow. He leaned closer.

“You are.”

“Then what am I thinking _right now_?”

He leaned even closer, his face scant inches from hers. She wasn’t able to meet his eyes properly. He was simply too close, too _much_. Finally, she took just one small, careful step backward. “Curiosity,” he murmured.

“Pardon me?” She hoped he didn’t hear the slight husky note to her voice.

“Right now you are thinking about escaping out that door and never ever returning. But curiosity. It keeps you here. Why this script? Why not a porn script? What is he after?” He leaned closer, ever closer, until his breath fanned out across her face and Belle felt her eyes begin to drift shut. “Curiosity, dearie. It’s why you’ve done no more than take one tiny step away.”

He released the pressure then, backed away. Not far, really. Just a half a foot or so, but it was enough for Belle to begin breathing again, hand on her racing heart. He was right. She knew he was. “So why _this_ script?”

He shrugged, an elegant motion of his shoulders under the fine cut of his suit. “Because you are an actress, my dear. Not a porn star. And as I’ve said multiple times, you deserve better than where you are right now.” He held up the script and waited for Belle to take it. “And this? This is a script several studios have been after. And I was able to obtain the rights. The part is yours, if you’ll have it.”

She nodded mutely. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? A chance to shine, to be in a real movie. “Yes,” she finally whispered. “Yes, I’ll have it.”

“Excellent. Then I suggest you go study the scenes I have marked off. I _will_ use you to audition people for these particular roles, after all.” The last was said with a slight smirk.

Belle started to leave but those words. She couldn’t forget about Ruby in all of this mess. Her life was changing. Drastically, if Gold had anything to say about it. But Ruby and the rest of those who worked for the studio…what would happen to them? “What _was_ all of that with Ruby then?”

“Hmmm?” He had already moved back behind his desk and while still standing, had begun to sort through the papers once more.

“Ruby. All the men. The auditions I thought she was doing for me.” The man was either completely obtuse or infuriatingly evasive.

“Oh that?” And she knew he was trying to sound innocent, even if there was a hard edge to his voice.

“Yes that.” Belle crossed her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes slightly at the man.

“Well, someone has to continue on with what this studio does.” He waved a hand in the air. “Ruby is good at her job, after all.”

“She is,” Belle had to grudgingly admit. And more than that, Ruby _liked_ her job. Unlike Belle, she had a real desire to be part of the adult industry. She enjoyed the exhibitionism of it all and, as she told her once, she might as well get paid for what she enjoyed doing. “So those auditions were actually for Ruby then?”

“They were.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Come again?”

“I just don’t. There’s something you’re not telling me.” In fact, there were probably _several_ somethings he wasn’t telling her. The man was about as forthcoming as a rock. She knew little about him at this point, but she knew he certainly wasn’t one for sharing his plans beyond _exactly_ what she needed to know.

He leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands together, and smirked. Always that same damned smirk. “I have told you everything you need to know.”

“Hmm,” Belle responded with. She stepped to the desk, put her hands on it and leaned forward. “One of these days you’ll tell me everything.” She brushed his cheek with one finger of her right hand, surprised to see him turn his face just slightly into the touch.

She watched him for just one moment longer, furrow between her brows, and then left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

* * *

It was sometime late in the afternoon that Belle finally stood, rubbing at the crick in her neck from too long spent over the script. She could barely remember the walk from Gold’s office to her dressing room, could barely remember sitting down and tucking into the script. This first reading was just that…a reading. The play was as fun as it was unexpected. She wasn’t really sure _what_ she had expected but it certainly wasn’t something fun and humorous, more _Noises Off!_ than Shakespeare.

She hadn’t assumed Gold had a sense of humor.

She was still pretty sure he didn’t. Yet here this script was. Funny, irreverent. It dealt with a woman, her new fiancé, and her fiancé’s mother arriving at a cabin owned by her first husband, who had died in a hunting accident. The first husband still haunts the cabin and only the woman can see him. Cue hilarity as he finds out he was killed, she talks to him, and everyone else thinks she’s going nuts. The script was face-paced and full of quick back-and-forth dialogue that would keep the audience laughing.

She had found herself nodding and smiling as she read it, a sure sign that it was something she _wanted_ to do.

Which was surprising. Well, everything was surprising really. Gold more so than everything else. She needed to get into his brain, peel back the layers a bit. She liked working with a director she understood, though she realized as of late that there was little she actually had understood about King. He had seemed straight-forward, a good director who knew the audience who bought his films. He had found one idea and stuck fairly close to it and had made a tidy sum

Gold, though? He was a mystery. And while she loved mysteries, perhaps even more than she was comfortable admitting, this was a mystery that was starting to get old.

She tossed the script down with a sigh. She needed to figure him out, perhaps for her own sanity, perhaps for reasons she couldn’t quite figure out. She didn’t want to spend time thinking about those reasons. If she looked too closely, she wasn’t sure what she would find and that made her uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and a little frightened, if she were to be completely honest with herself.

The knock that disturbed her reverie was welcome to say the least. Her head shot up at the sound, a sharp rapping of knuckles disturbing the deep silence she had buried herself in “Yes…come in!”

Ruby stuck her head around the door. “You busy, Belle?”

She let out a small laugh. “Not exactly.” She held up the script. “Well, perhaps a little bit busy. But I need a break.”

“Oh good.” Ruby nearly skipped into the room. “How did it go with Gold?”

She almost snorted at the thought. “About as well as could be expected.”

“Did he tell you…”

“No,” she interrupted her with. “No he didn’t tell me a damned thing.” She could feel the frustration creeping into her voice and knew instantly that Ruby heard it too.

Her friend leaned forward and forced Belle to meet her eyes. “You want to _know_ him, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You do,” Ruby said and there was a smugness to her voice. “He has you intrigued. One of those infamous _mysteries_ you’re always talking about.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Belle snapped at her.

“I’m not. I remember what you used to say about Gaston. ‘Gaston is just so _superficial_ , Ruby. What you see is what you get. I want a mystery. I want someone with layers. I want someone I have to figure out. Gaston is just _Gaston_.’” Ruby said the last with a dramatic sigh and a hand pressed to her forehead.

“I don’t sound like that,” Belle grumbled at her and looked away.

“You do too. It was almost a refrain for you. Every time someone asked you if you and Gaston were getting back together…”

“Oh alright. You might be right about that. Gaston _is_ a superficial idiot. But you’re not right about Gold.”

“If you say so.”

“Can we change the subject?” All of this was hitting a little too close to home for Belle. There was a part of her, a small part that she was trying so desperately to ignore, that knew Ruby was right. Gold had her intrigued. More than intrigued really. She found herself drawn to him in ways she had never been drawn to Gaston, perhaps never drawn to anyone else she had met. There was a core of steel to the man, but also something so very vulnerable lurking just beneath the surface. She wanted to know what that was, loath to admit it though she was.

“Fine.” Ruby’s voice had a slight pout to it, but she brightened quickly. “Tell me about this script.”

Belle’s eyes lit up. She couldn’t help it. “It’s a farce.”

“A farce?” Ruby looked slightly taken aback and Belle realized it wasn’t because she didn’t know what one _was_ , but because she didn’t really think that’s the route Gold would take.

“I know, right? I don’t know what I expected, but farce wasn’t it.” Drama, angst, a play full of hate and anger. That seemed likely to be Gold’s idea of a story if it weren’t about sex. And strangely enough, though he exuded a sort of raw sexuality that Belle desperately tried to ignore, he didn’t seem particularly interested in the subject.

“Huh,” Ruby said at length. “So what are you going to do about him?”

“About Gold? There’s nothing _to_ do.”

“Really now? Still that same refrain?”

Belle said nothing, simply turned away.

“Come on Belle.” Ruby scooted her chair closer to her. “Anyone with half a brain can tell Gold has a thing for you.”

“But…”

“He _does_. He’s doing this all for _you_. The rest of us? We’re nothing to him.”

Belle shook her head. “What about those auditions?”

“Done. He stopped them all. I don’t think he ever wanted anything to do with this production.” Belle wasn’t sure if her friend was sad, angry, or happy. Perhaps it was a bit of all three. “I’m pretty sure we’re on hold until he finishes whatever this _thing_ is with you and moves on. Hopefully he’ll just sell…”

“Wait.”

“What?” Belle knew Ruby _hated_ to be interrupted, but she supposed she was used to it. Belle often got ahold of _some_ idea she just couldn’t let go of right away.

“I have an idea.” Without much more though than that, Belle excused herself, leaving Ruby in her dressing room and rushing back toward Gold’s office.

* * *

“Miss French,” Gold said as he looked up at her. She hadn’t bothered to knock. That seemed to be developing into an almost regular thing with them. She didn’t knock and he didn’t get irritated and it was just the way things were. It wasn’t the basis for a relationship really, but Belle supposed it was something. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She set the script down on his desk and he glanced down at it, the question obvious.

“The script…” Belle started.

“Haven’t we been through this before?” One eyebrow rose as he spoke.

“No,” she quickly answered. “Not this particular thing, no.”

“Then?” He waved one hand in the air in a lazy motion. “I don’t have all day, Miss French.”

“Belle.”

“Pardon?”

“My name is Belle.”

“I’m aware of that.” There was a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

“Just…stop all the ‘Miss French’ nonsense...”

“I hardly think being respectful would fall under the ‘nonsense’ category,” he pointed out.

“I just think if we’re going to work together, then you shouldn’t be quite so formal.”

“ _Are_ we going to work together?” She was surprised by the earnest note in this voice. He almost sounded relieved, perhaps a bit excited at the prospect.

“On one condition.” And here was the tricky part, Belle realized. She had to get him to agree to her plan and even she knew it was a bit crazy. Perhaps even more than crazy, really. But it was _her_ plan and she was going to stick to it.

“You want to make a deal with me, Miss French?”

“Belle,” she reminded him.

“Still…a deal with the devil,” he mused. “I’m not sure that’s in your best interest.” For a moment he sounded dangerous and she could see the darkness lurking there, somewhere beneath the expensive suits and designer ties.

“I believe it is.”

“Oh really?” She watched as he licked his lips, his eyes alight with _something_. She couldn’t quite describe it, but it fell somewhere between darkness and excitement and…lust. Yes. It slammed into her hard as she leaned closer to him, racing through her body and leaving her feeling slightly breathless.

“It’s in your best interest, too,” she finally managed to say, her voice huskier than usual. She tried not to even think of what she was doing, really. Something about Gold made her go over the edge a bit, act in ways she usually didn’t.

“Is it now?” One of his eyebrows arched.

Belle leaned a bit closer. “If you agree to it, you get me to star in this little movie you want to make.”

“And if I don’t, you’ll walk.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you sure that’s in _your_ best interest?”

Belle leaned back and shrugged. “Perhaps not.”

“Then out with it, dearie. What sort of deal do you wish to make?”

“I’ll star in this movie.” And here she paused, dramatic effect and all that. “And you cast the rest of the parts from within the studio.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Absolutely not!” The words were forceful and Belle found herself skittering backward a bit from him.

“Then I walk,” she reminded him and was pleased to watch him run his fingers through his hair, leaving the normally impeccable strands in complete disarray.

“We cannot cast a _movie_ from the people in this studio,” he ground out and Belle just smiled.

“Why not?” She sounded innocent, though she well knew what his next words would be.

“Because they cannot _act_. They are _porn stars_ , Miss French, or have you forgotten that?” He stood then, not even using his cane to leverage himself around the desk.

“I am too. Or have you forgotten _that_?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m not likely to forget it,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“You are _different_ , Miss French. You have talent. Real talent. You’re better than just spreading your legs and giving seductive looks to the camera. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Belle gave him a sad look at that. “I think many people here have talent. There’s nothing wrong with what we do…”

“I know that.” He spoke softly, though the words carried in the small room. “Miss French…”

“Belle,” she reminded him.

“Belle,” he said and took a step toward her. “I’ve been in this field a long time. Or I was…before…” He let the words trail off.

Belle waited expectantly before it became apparent he didn’t want to continue. “Before?”

He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “It’s very rare to find someone with your kind of acting talent in this industry.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I meant it as one.” She was fairly certain he was sincere with the words and hoped her face didn’t reflect the embarrassment she felt on the inside.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you should give them a chance.”

He picked up his copy of the script, flipping over to the character descriptions and scrutinizing them for a moment. Then he sighed. And his eyes met hers. “Allow me to amend the deal.”

“Ok?” It was better than nothing, at least. She hadn’t been sure what he’d do when she made her proposal, but agreeing to it outright didn’t seem to be in his nature. An amendment? She could possibly do that.

“We audition them.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Audition?”

“Yes. You and I. We sit down with the cast list from this studio and decide who might be appropriate for which role. And then get them to audition for those roles.”

“There’s a catch.” The words were a statement.

He smiled, slow and slightly crooked. “Of course there is. If no one shows up, you concede defeat and we have _real_ auditions.”

“Deal!” Belle said quickly.

“Not so fast,” Gold said and held up one hand. “If people _do_ show up and they are absolutely abysmal, you concede complete and utter defeat and allow me to take over the reins.”

She shook her head. “Allow me to amend _your_ deal.” He waved a hand at her. “We have to _agree_ that those who auditioned were entirely inappropriate for the roles. Then you can take over the reins.”

“Agreed.” Gold held out a hand.

Belle let out a squeal and, completely ignoring his hand, put her arms around him in a quick, tight hug. She wasn’t even sure what possessed her, but she was suddenly wrapped around him and his arms had come around her and even if she wanted to back away, which she didn’t, she found she wasn’t able to.

His hands spread out across her back, holding her tight to him, and she was almost sure she heard a sigh before he released her and stepped back.

“I…” Belle shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but all she could think of was being plastered against him and how well they had fit together. “Should we do this now?”

He cleared his throat and she winced at how awkward things were. It was easier to be at odds, to antagonize each other. “No. Not now. You need to compile some lists, as do I.” He shut his eyes briefly. “Let’s say…two hours? We’ll meet in two hours to go over our lists and get together audition notices.”

She nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

He moved toward her, cane still settled against his desk, his limp far more pronounced without its aid. Opening the door, he waved her through. “I’ll see you then….Belle.”

Her smile as she left his office was genuine, as soft as his spoken words. Something had _changed_ there, with that hug. It had opened up a new door and she was suddenly interested in seeing where it would take them.

* * *

She had hugged him. And he was left feeling like the whole world had gone topsy-turvy around him. She had _hugged_ him. And he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry or both at once. Probably the latter.

No, _definitely_ the latter.

He made his halting way back to his desk and sat heavily in the chair. There were times, times like _right now_ , that he really had no clue what he was doing or why he was doing it. He had come here because he needed to find her, needed to meet her. Because she made him _feel_ things, things he had not felt in years.

And now she had hugged him, crossed that boundary. He had felt her soft body pressed up against his and he hadn’t wanted to let her go.

He was in deeper than he was perhaps ready to admit, pushing forward with a plan that he was entirely uncertain of. And less so now. He had been backed into a corner, his feelings clouding all judgment. She had leaned across the desk, gotten in his face, so close, so very very close. And he had simply caved.

The deal was made. Now he had to follow through with it.

With a sigh, he pulled out the script and a roster of those who worked in the studio, and started to think about who might be suitable for the roles. In reality, none of them probably were. And in the end Belle would have to admit he was right and he could go ahead and audition _real_ actors for those roles.

Even then he could hear her in his mind, pointing out that he was casting _her_ and she was hardly a “real actress.” In truth, she _was_. He could see the potential for greatness in her, the potential to work far beyond where she was now. And the way she so eagerly jumped at this chance told him that _she_ wanted out as well.

Her little song and dance routine about getting everyone else involved was unexpected, but the more he got to know her, the less surprising it seemed. Belle had a soft heart, even if it was surrounded by a steel core. Oh there was strength there, a strength he hadn’t quite expected to find in her. She knew what she wanted and went after it. But she also _cared_ about the people she worked with quite deeply and he found that ultimately a bit disconcerting.

So here he was. Stuck. Or at least stuck until he could prove her wrong and get on with this production.

* * *

Belle had her list. It wasn’t a very long list. Gold was right about one thing. Most people in the studio were terrible actors. Gaston wasn’t the only one whose only interest was taking his clothes off and getting down to business. Most didn’t see it as any sort of art form and Belle supposed they were right. The people watching it certainly didn’t consider it an art form. It was a way to get aroused, to get themselves off when no one else was around, to enhance their own sex life if they were perhaps a bit more adventurous.

So acting? It just didn’t matter.

But there were some that she had seen a spark in, some that seemed to be in it for something more than _just_ the sex. And some who had no idea that they had any talent. She had jotted down Ruby’s name to play the role of the kooky psychic. Ruby _swore_ she was just in it for the sex, but Belle had seen _something_ in her performances. She was capable of far more than she thought she was. Not that being in this industry was bad at all. But maybe someday she might want to get out.

The issue was convincing her to try out. And convincing Gold to give her a chance. Belle didn’t fool herself for a moment on this one. She knew he would wiggle out of their deal if he could find some way to do it. He would audition them, declare them all incompetent and start over. She wouldn’t quite say that he had some sort of contempt for Ruby, but he knew she might be the hardest to convince him of. Even when off the clock, Ruby dressed in skimpy clothes and flirted with all the men. Gold had seen it and she knew he would have taken his measure of Ruby and dismissed her in his mind.

With a sigh, she grabbed her small piece of paper and headed to Gold’s office. She stepped through the door as soon as she arrived, shoving it aside in a rather not unquiet way.

“Don’t you ever knock?” Gold was seated at his desk, the script in front of him, writing away on a separate sheet of paper. He didn’t even look up when she walked in.

“Should I?” Belle sat down, crossed her arms over her chest.

“What if I were…

“Doing something unseemly?” His head shot up and she leaned forward slightly in interest. “Were you?” The look he gave her was inscrutable. “You were, weren’t you?”

“Miss French,” he interrupted her with. “I assume you’re here because you wish to discuss casting this script?”

“I am.”

“Then shall we get down to it?”

She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Of course.” She picked up her chair and carried it over to his side of the desk, setting it down close, probably far _too_ close to his chair for complete comfort.

“What are you doing?” The way his voice rose slightly in pitch might have been funny if Belle didn’t feel exactly the same way. And she was the one moving the damned chair.

“Did you not want to work on this then?” She managed to pitch her voice in a completely calm manner, even though she felt a slight flutter in her stomach at seeing the chairs so close together.

“Yes, but…”

“I need to see your list. You need to see mine. It just makes sense.”

“It does.”

She watched him for a moment, not quite sure if that was meant to be a statement or a question. He was fidgeting a little, thumb and forefinger of his right hand rubbing together, left plucking at the papers sitting on his desk. She finally decided to simply sit and let things lay as they were. “It does,” she confirmed. “So what do you have?”

She could see the way he steeled himself, stiffening slightly, before nodding and setting himself to the task at hand. “Floyd,” he muttered.

“My character’s fiancé?”

“Yes.”

“Right. Good. So who do you have?” She had some ideas, though she wasn’t sure he’d get on board with them. In fact, she had her _perfect_ idea, if only the person in question would decide to audition.

“No one.” He said the words with a smirk and Belle sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought.

“Floyd is supposed to be dumb as a box of rocks and you can’t think of one porn star who could handle that? Really?”

“Not a one.”

She shook her head and sighed in exasperation. “You’re not really trying.”

“I am.”

“You’re _not_. Are you going to break our deal?” There was a challenge in her voice as she leaned in closer to him.

He followed suit, his body moving toward hers at almost the same moment. “I don’t break deals,” he growled and she felt the shiver go through her. If she just…no…she wouldn’t think about what would happen if she just shifted forward a bit, just moved her face closer to his, just…no.

“Then look at _my_ list.” She pushed it toward him and he backed away slightly. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“David Nolan?” He sounded surprised.

She nodded. “Yes. Look, I saw some of his old stuff…”

“You watched him?”

“Are you jealous?” She couldn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and his face tightened a little when she told him she had watched those old movies.

“Of course not.”

“Really?”

“Why David Nolan?”

She simply smirked. “The script describes Floyd as a ‘tortoise.’ He’s steadfast and safe. David Nolan just seemed the type.” He made a strange sound in the back of his throat at that. “What? Do _you_ want to play Floyd?”

He snorted. “Of course not.”

“Then what is your objection to David Nolan?”

“None whatsoever.” He let out a small sigh. “You get him to audition and I’ll consider it…”

“Good.”

“But,” he continued, raising one finger to stop her from speaking. “If I decide to give him the role, you have to find a new cameraman for the movie.”

“Fine then.”

“As long as we’re in agreement.”

“We are.” In fact, she already knew who she would ask to take over David Nolan’s role as primary cameraman…well…camera _person_ …for the movie. Gold wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t exactly say he had to approve of her choice. “So what about Crystal?”

He pushed his list at her and she glanced down at it for just one moment, enough to see that he had listed only one person. Her eyebrows shot up as her eyes met his again. He smiled as he pulled her list to him. “Aurora is too bland.”

“Bland?”

“Yes. She’s not right for the role at all.”

“Haven’t you seen her do…”

“Probably,” he cut her off with. She didn’t know why she was surprised, really. He was the type to do his research. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not.” But she couldn’t stop that feeling in the pit of her stomach, imagining him watching someone _else_. And it surprised her, really. She _was_ jealous.

He leaned toward her and drew one long finger down the side of her face. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve watched your movies more.”

She shivered and pulled back. “I told you I’m not jealous.” And he just smiled. “So why Ruby?”

“Flamboyant, flaky, party girl? I could think of no one more perfect for the role.” He sat back and crossed his hands over chest.

“Alright, I’ll give you that one.” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs and smirked.

He smirked back and for a moment, just a moment, they fell into an almost companionable silence.

They set to the rest of the cast soon after. The movie thankfully called for a small cast. Their biggest argument centered on who would play the dead fiancé’s ghost, with Belle coming up with any number of people she thought could fit the role and Gold shooting them all down for one reason or other. August looked the part but was too sedate. Phillip was all wrong physically but had the right personality. She jokingly offered up Leroy as an option and Gold actually burst out into laughter at that one. In truth, she wanted the gruff older man to audition for Adam, the older gentleman who wanted to buy the cottage the movie took place in.

In the end, they both tossed their lists down and leaned back in their seats, satisfied to at least some degree. They had a list of possibilities for some of the characters and others Belle had agreed to allow Gold to hold auditions for.

“ _Not_ porn actors, dearie,” he pointed out. “Real auditions for real actors.”

She just shook her head. “I honestly don’t know why you wanted to do this with a bunch of porn stars anyway.” There was a slight pout to her voice.

Gold leaned toward her and wrapped an arm around the top of her chair. “This was your idea, remember?”

“So it was. But you could at least be somewhat kind to the studio you took over.”

“I didn’t take over the studio.”

Belle’s glanced over at him. “But you…”

“Your movie. That was all.”

“You didn’t even make the movie.”

“Indeed I didn’t.”

She turned completely toward him then, all too aware that it placed her close to him. Her shoulder was still almost brushing his, her face just scant inches from his. “Then why? Why are you doing all of this?”

“I told you…”

“No. None of that. _Why_?”

She watched as he closed his eyes, just briefly, before bringing his hand up to cup her face. “For _you_.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.” One side of his mouth quirked up and she felt the breath leave her body.

“Then _explain._ ” Her eyes were insistent as they met his. She brought her hand up and touched his and he froze.

“Go out with me,” he finally said and his voice sounded almost pained.

“What?”

He gave a small huff of laughter. “Nevermind.” And he retreated, turning away as he did so. “I think we’re done here. I’ll put out audition notices tomorrow.”

“No, wait.” She moved around him, faced him. “Ask me again.”

“I think once was enough, Miss French.”

He wouldn’t so much as look up at her, instead watching the paperwork he was fiddling with. It was a nervous tic, she realized, something he did when he needed _something_ to do with his hands. She had that too, flipping books around in her hands, tapping pens against her desk. Little things that helped focus her mind.

She sank to her knees in front of him and placed one hand on his leg. She felt him stiffen beneath her, the muscles of his thigh going taut as she dug her fingers into him. “Ask…me… _again_.”

He finally met her eyes and seemed to relax, at least a little bit. “Miss French…”

“Belle.”

“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?” he said with a sigh of frustration.

“Nope.”

“ _Belle_ …would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“Like a date?”

“Yes. Like a date.”

“To one of those fancy French restaurants?” She smirked as she spoke the words.

“If that’s what you want.” He sounded surprisingly sincere.

“No comment on my job?” She couldn’t help the taunt.

“None,” he quickly said, holding up his hands in a defensive posture.

“Then it’s a date. Friday night.”

“Friday night,” he echoed.

Belle stood then, both hands on the arms of the chair Gold still sat in. She shifted forward, face so very near his. His eyes shut and hers nearly did as well. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, wanted to crawl onto his lap, straddle him, wrap her arms around him. Instead she simply leaned in close. “Good then.”

And then she pushed away from him and departed. Friday was still two days away. A lot could happen before then.


	7. Chapter 7

The audition notices had gone up and the studio was in an uproar. Everywhere Belle went she overheard discussions about the movie, about what would become of the studio. And those often ended with a slight glare toward her. Gold had made sure that the audition notices included that she would be playing the main character. Clearly it was a vehicle for _her_ and the rest were being invited a long if they so desired.

And a part of Belle was angry at Gold for all of this, wondered why he didn’t try to whisk her away and leave the studio with someone who _wanted_ to be involved in the industry. His interest was clearly with her and her alone. And now there was a new edge to it.

He had asked her out.

And she had agreed to go.

She didn’t really understand what got into herself when she was with him. She challenged him at every turn and he challenged her right back. He was sharp-tongued and acerbic, sometimes downright rude. But somewhere, hidden deep beneath that in a layer she had only managed to see a few times, there was someone who she wanted to get to know.

She knew there was baggage there. She knew that whatever had caused him to walk away from the industry and become a recluse, whatever it was that had caused him to disappear off the face of the earth for nearly ten years, must be quite painful. She had her own share of pain and sometimes thought that disappearing might be nice. But ultimately she hadn’t done it and he _had_.

She wanted to get to the bottom of those mysteries, peel back the layers, figure him out. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that way.

Of course, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone quite so complicated as Gold. One moment he was as good as calling her a whore and in the next he was asking her out on a date. A _date_. She couldn’t even quite imagine how that would go at this point.

She needs to find a dress.

The perfect dress. Not that mess she wore the last time. But a real one.

And she doesn’t even _have_ a real one.

Or shoes that don’t scream _Fuck me_. Because the only shoes she wears except the sneakers for her runs and the sandals for relaxing, are the 5-inch heels she needs for their movies.

“Belle?”

“Oh Ruby, thank God.” She jumped up and threw the door open.

“I’ve knocked three times,” Ruby pointed out.

“Sorry,” Belle murmured.

“What’s going on?” Ruby sounded concerned.

“With?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me get you drunk, Belle.”

“As if that ever worked.” Well, it did… _once_. Ruby had once managed to get out the details about her first big fight with Gaston by taking her out to The Rabbit Hole. And Ruby was _good_. She knew how to get right to the heart of the matter.

“So?” Ruby smirked as she leaned forward. “What’s with these audition notices?”

“I got Gold to agree to open up the roles to the studio first.”

“To porn stars?” Ruby sounded incredulous, almost annoyingly so.

“Yes. To _porn stars_. Come on Ruby, don’t tell me you don’t think the role of Crystal is screaming your name.”

“Does she do it doggy style? Maybe with both of those guys at once?”

“ _Ruby_ ,” Belle scolded, punching her lightly on the arm. “You know it’s not _that_ kind of movie.”

“And you know what I do, Belle. I’m not a real actress.” She reached up and smoothed an unruly lock of Belle’s hair down. “Not like you.”

“You _are_ though,” Belle insisted, reaching out to clasp Ruby’s hand in hers. “Please tell me you’ll consider auditioning for the role.”

“Belle…”

“Ruby…”

“Alright. _Fine_. I’ll audition. And when he doesn’t cast me, you’ll just let this go, yes?”

Belle couldn’t help the smile that broke out across her face. “Of course. There’s just one thing…”

“Yes?” Ruby said with a raised eyebrow.

“Gold thought you’d be perfect for the role too.” The words came out in a rush and she winced slightly, waiting for Ruby’s reaction. It wasn’t really _that_ much of a stretch. He did have Ruby’s name down, and _only_ her name, for the role. Though she still believed he was hoping to get the auditions over quickly and move onto the people _he_ wanted to bring in, she knew that Ruby really _was_ perfect for it. She’d prove Gold wrong. She _would_.

“Really?” Ruby’s voice had softened just a bit as her head cocked slightly to the side.

“He did, Ruby. I swear. I would never lie to you.”

Ruby sighed and lightly touched Belle’s hand. “I know.”

“Then you’ll audition?”

“I’ll think about it, ok?”

Belle smiled at her friend. “That’s all I can ever ask for.”

After a moment of silence, Ruby spoke again. “There’s more than just this though, isn’t there?”

Belle shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Ruby had always been strangely perceptive, picking up on cues that other people would have easily missed. Even when Belle managed to hide her pain from other people, Ruby somehow managed to creep through her defenses and get her to confess what was wrong. “I…yes.”

“I knew it! What happened with Gold?”

“Why do you always assume it’s him?”

“Newest big thing in life. Strangely possessive of you. Always seems to be sniffing around your skirts…”

“Ruby!” Belle tried for scolding, oh did she ever. But her friend’s name came out on a laugh.

“Oh come on Belle. Something happened and I _know_ it involves that man.”

Belle bit her lip and felt her cheeks redden slightly.

“You kissed him, didn’t you?” Ruby’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe…”

“No, no,” Belle said and she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside her. “Nothing like that.”

“Yet?”

“Yet,” Belle conceded. “He asked me out.”

The scream Ruby let out could probably be heard in the rest of the dressing rooms. “Did you say yes?”

“I did, yes.”

“Really? After the last time?”

“I would hardly call that a _date_ , Ruby.” They went to a restaurant, sure. But a date? If it had been one, it had ended in complete disaster. One he really had deserved. But she was pretty sure that mess did not count as a date. “I made him promise to take me to one of those fancy French restaurants.”

Ruby burst out laughing. “Belle, you don’t even _like_ fancy restaurants,” she pointed out.

“I know. But he owes me that!” And she couldn’t help joining in the laughter.

“So when is this infamous date?”

“Oh it better not be infamous, Ruby,” Belle warned. “If you so much as _breathe_ a word about this to anyone else I will personally hunt you down and kill you.” Ruby started to speak but Belle quickly interrupted. “No. I will send _Gold_ to kill you.”

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone. So when is it?” Ruby had that _look_ on her face and Belle groaned a bit.

“Friday.”

She pulled out her calendar. “So Saturday afternoon…for lunch?” Belle just rolled her eyes. “Unless you think you’ll get lucky. Just text me if you do.”

“I am _not_ sleeping with him on the first date.” It wasn’t that the thought of sleeping with him didn’t appeal. And Belle suddenly realized quite how much it _did_ appeal. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such an instant pull to someone. In fact, she wasn’t sure she had _ever_ felt such a pull to someone. Gaston had ultimately been someone her friends set her up with, one of those “you never ever date so here’s a guy for you” moments in her life. And before him she had dated a few guys, only one of which she would call an honest to goodness boyfriend. She had only slept with Gaston because she was curious about the whole thing. And the sex had been mediocre at best. She sure it could be better and something told her that Gold would be an attentive lover.

“Well, you never know,” Ruby said with a laugh.

Belle just have her a look and that made her laugh even harder. “Shouldn’t you go prepare for your audition? Gold left copies of the scenes by the audition notice.”

“Alright, I know when I’m being dismissed. You just better be ready to spill all the details on Saturday,” she warned and then was out the door before Belle could answer that one way or another.

* * *

_At least she had said yes_ , Gold reminded himself for perhaps the thousandth time since Belle had left his office. He would have agreed to any of her terms if she would just agree to going out with him. He felt like a schoolboy then, not the middle-aged man he was.

A middle-aged man with a history Belle deserved to know if she were to get involved with him. And he didn’t know if she wanted to, not really. But there were things she didn’t know, about his leaving the industry, about those ten years he had disappeared from the public eye. She had drawn him back out, had made him want to be seen again. But there were times he wanted to crawl back into that hole he had dug and pretend nothing had changed.

His head was in his hands when the knock came at the door. It couldn’t be Belle, returned to tell him that actually she would rather not go out with him thank you very much. She didn’t knock. She barged in, took over the space. She was tiny, barely over five feet tall, but her personality was huge.

The knock was firm so he knew it wasn’t David Nolan. He fully expected the man to come to him, surprised that he was asked to audition for a part in the movie. He probably had no idea Gold even knew who he was and would be surprised he’d even consider getting him on board. But whenever he stopped by his knock was quiet, faltering.

With a sigh he finally spoke. “Come in.” The words were firm, but clearly exasperated.

“Well, well, what have we here?” came the voice before the person appeared around the corner of the doorway.

He was on instant alert. This was not entirely unexpected, though he didn’t think he’d see her quite this soon. “And how exactly did you get wind of my return, dearie?” His voice was pitched low, dangerous.

She laughed. “So the rumors _are_ true, then. I thought surely not. Gold returned from the grave?”

“Hardly,” he said with a snort. “The town might have been sleepy, but not dead. I can assure you of that much.”

“Hmmm,” was all she said, turning to peruse the walls of his office, dark eyes missing nothing. She had been his protégé, once long ago, a rising star who had all the drive and intelligence to take his place as director when he retired. It was her impulsivity that had gotten her in trouble time and time again.

“Might I inquire as to why you are _here_?” he finally asked, the words sharp and clipped.

She stepped toward the desk and leaned over it, one manicured nail briefly touching the script for the movie that still lay sprawled across the desk after his meeting with Belle. “I think you know.”

He pulled his lips back in what one might call a smile, though it was far too feral to be mistaken as such. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll make you a deal.” Her voice was pitched low, a slight seductive undertone to it that left him feeling rather sullied.

“Oh, are we going to try _that_ one? Really, dearie?” He yanked the script back out from under where her hand still hovered.

“I know you, Gold….”

“You never knew me,” he cut her off with, the words said with a slight sneer. “Not even your mother did, try though she did.”

She snorted. “My mother.” There was little else that needed to be said. Cora was a dark spot in his life, still one that rankled to this day. It might have been over ten years ago, but some things were never quite forgotten, no matter how hard he tried. And he had tried. Damn, but he had tried, holing himself up in a little town, barely seeing the light of day for more years than he could count. The heart had healed to some degree at least, but the head would never forget.

Regina was a reminder, a harsh one really. “What _do_ you want, dearie?”

She leaned closer. “You know.”

“Oh this?” He placed his hand flat on the script in front of him, keeping it pinned to the desk. He saw her hand twitch slightly.

“That was _supposed_ to be mine,” she ground out.

“Was it?” He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face. He damn well knew that Regina had wanted the script. When he began shopping around for the perfect vehicle to launch Belle’s career, he had found it and knowing Regina wanted it just made it all that much more delicious to snag right out from under her. She hadn’t seen it coming and hearing about her rage second-hand had been almost a triumph for him.

Somehow seeing it in person made it all that much better.

“You know it was.” There was a dark edge to her voice.

“Well, it’s just too bad you didn’t know the right things to say…”

“Or the right amount of money to bribe the writers,” she shot back with.

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in his chair. “Well, there is that, too. Fact is, dearie, I _won_.”

“You only _think_ you’ve won,” Regina said with a cold-blooded smile. “You haven’t yet.” She leaned over his desk and he allowed her, not moving from his overly comfortable-looking position. She could snatch the copy of the script away from him but even she knew that would do little good. He still owned the rights to it and unless she could convince him to sign them over, she wasn’t getting anywhere near it. The closest she would get was holding it in her hot little hands.

But she wasn’t interested in picking it up apparently and he was too late to push aside the list that he had sitting right in front of him. “Belle, hmm?” Regina said and there was a knowing look on her face. “She’s going to be your star? That mousy little thing?”

“She’s not…”

“Well, I guess she’s not mousy when she has her legs spread, is she now?” Regina smiled then dark lips pulling back into a feral smile that mimicked the one he often used. For a moment he wondered if she had learned it from his mother who, in turn, had learned it from him. That family was truly very much alike, both women cold, heartless, and ambitious.

“Well, well,” he finally managed to say, smirk returning as he leaned forward. “It seems you _did_ learn something from your mother.”

“No thanks to you,” she shot back.

He cocked his head slightly to the side. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“I think you do.”

He smirked. “Right.”

“Nothing else to say for yourself?” This time it was her turn to cross her arms over her chest. Anger and defensiveness all seemed to roll together in one with Regina. She had a long history of a volatile temper, of doing whatever it took to get the job done, but also of always having to cater to her mother’s wishes. Cora was not an easy woman to live with. He didn’t envy Regina that much, at least.

“The door is that way, if you’d like.” He made a vague gesture at the door.

She took a step toward it before turning back. “You’re fooling yourself if you think that you can do this movie with your little _porn star_.”

“I’m not casting porn stars, dearie.” He wondered if she’d even notice the pluralization of the word there. Words were not quite as important to Regina as they _should_ be. He had often one-upped her through the use of his words alone. “I’m casting actors.”

“And your little Belle is at the top of the list,” she sneered back.

He refused to answer to that one, the words cutting just a little bit too close to home. He had a date with her and soon, a chance to push whatever this was to some new level. He wouldn’t let Regina screw that up for him with insinuations. Her mother had managed to push his buttons just one too many times. Regina wasn’t going to be allowed to pick up where she had left off. “The door is _that_ way. You’ll excuse me if I don’t see you out.” The last was said while picking up the cane at his side, twirling it once in his fingers.

“Of course.” Regina leaned forward, just an inch or two. “I forgot that you’re a _cripple_ now.” She let the words hang and turned to leave, pausing just inside the door. “Don’t think this is over Gold. I’ll cripple this production just as well as you crippled your leg. You can count on _that_.” And then she was out the door, letting it slam behind her.

Gold took a deep breath. Then another. He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he had come in contact with one of the Mills women. He had hoped, all those years ago, that when he walked out of the business that would be the last time he’d ever lay eyes on either one of them. He knew that coming back, that taking the reins of this little production company, that treading on Regina’s toes even if it _were_ behind the scenes, might bring him to their attention.

They missed nothing, really. Both were keenly intelligent and driven. Neither were capable of taking no for an answer. His spurning Regina’s attempts to take him out of play, playing word games, all of the things he once used to do with her mother, would lead nowhere good.

He would head her off at the pass, though. She had played her cards, put them all out on the table, made sure he knew she was there and watching and ready to pounce. But one thing Regina seemed to have forgotten in the years, likely all that time of being at the top of the game blurring those memories, was that Gold got what Gold wanted.

Not much had changed there, despite the years holed up in Storybrooke, Maine. He hadn’t lost his edge. He had just…forgotten it for a little while. It seemed it was time to find that edge again. Regina wasn’t the type to let this go without a fight.


	8. Chapter 8

She was nervous. She didn’t know _why_ she was nervous, really. Well, ok, she was going on a date, a real date, perhaps the first one she had ever gone on in her life. She had sort of fallen in with Gaston without much ceremony and certainly no romance. Romance wasn’t something that concerned the big lug much, really. Sports did. His libido did. And Belle had found quickly as long as she nodded and smiled, he really barely noticed that she was more interested in the book she had in hand than in what he had to say.

But Gold? He mattered. She couldn’t quite figure out _why_ he mattered, though it certainly went further than his ability to make her a star. Not that she thought for a minute this little film would do _that_ , but she knew that it had the opportunity to at least launch a career in an industry that wasn’t made for seedy movie theatres you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in and home entertainment.

He mattered because, for some reason, she couldn’t get the bastard out of her head.

She and Ruby had gone dress shopping the day before and Ruby, bless her soul, had managed to keep up a chatter that kept Belle’s mind off exactly what they were shopping for. “The dress must be classy,” Ruby had said, adding quickly that classy did not mean _not_ sexy and she would find her the perfect dress for her “sacrificial date.”

As if she was going out with him simply because she _had_ to, as if she had to date him in order to get the lead in this movie. She didn’t. She knew that. Somehow she knew the man was above bribery.

And this wasn’t about bribery. It wasn’t about trickery. There was something _honest_ in his voice when he had asked her and that had been what had surprised her the most, what had caused her to react with incredulity.

The last time they went out, business lunch and all, had been an unmitigated disaster. This time she swore it would be better. Though she worried. She had dared him to take her to that fancy French restaurant he had insisted was too good for her the last time. And the reality was quite sad. She had never been to one before. She didn’t think she actually _wanted_ to go to one. The thought of which fork to use and where to place the napkin and her inability to read the menu despite her last name, left her feeling rather worried about the whole thing.

She wondered if she would be an embarrassment.

She wondered if it was too late to back out.

“You’re thinking of calling it off, aren’t you?” Ruby came up behind her and with the softness in her voice, Belle knew she was worried about her.

“What? No.”

“You are.” She put her hands on her hips. “Just take this. Get dressed. Gold will be here in less than an hour, woman.”

“But…”

“Do you not like him, then?” One eyebrow rose as Belle glanced down at the dress she was holding. There was no answer to that. She _did_. “Then what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nevermind. I’m just being silly.” She left Ruby then, stripping off her comfortable pajamas and staring at the rather uncomfortable thong that Ruby had insisted she buy for the night. Ruby was _still_ insistent the night would end with her in bed with Gold, but Belle wasn’t really counting on that. She didn’t feel _ready_ for that, intense attraction or not. But she had gone along with the purchase. Better safe than sorry, she supposed.

She slipped the dress on, a halter dress in navy blue that was classy, yet fun and flirty at the same time. The top was modest, certainly far more modest than the outfit she had worn the _last_ time she had gone out with Gold. The back was open, revealing, sexy in a way that was entirely acceptable. She had instantly fallen in love with the dress and the sale price had been right. Paired with the pair of silver peep-toe slingbacks she had found, the outfit was near on perfect.

When she stepped out, Ruby whistled. “Gold is going to _love_ it.”

Belle just smiled. “Thank you, Ruby. I really appreciate your taking me shopping. I’m utterly hopeless with all of this.”

“You’re not as hopeless as you might think.” She bent down to pick up her bag. “Now you listen to me Belle. You call me, ok? You call me at any time. If the date is an abysmal failure and you want to sneak out the bathroom window…”

“That’s not going to happen…”

“Still, call me. If he tries anything funny, you call me. And if he tries anything you really love, well, you call me tomorrow and tell me.”

Belle let out a laugh at that one. Ruby, always so interested in her sex life…or lack thereof. “You’re a good friend, Ruby.”

She smirked. “I know.” She opened the door and stepped out.  

“I’ll call you no matter what,” Belle confirmed. Even though she fully expected Gold to be a gentleman, she was glad she had _some_ sort of escape route. If she had had that with Gaston, she might not have even ended up where she was in the first place.

Of course, maybe ending up here wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

* * *

Gold was absolutely spot on time. She didn’t expect any different really, but still the knock at the door surprised her with how perfectly close to 7:00pm it was. She was never one to be on time. She tried. She tried _very_ hard, but usually some book caught her attention and she lost track of time.

Today she was too nervous to read and so thankful that Gold didn’t fall prey to the same affliction. She took a deep breath and opened the door, finding him standing there as immaculately dressed as always. He looked little different than he did any other day, his hair perhaps a bit neater, the cut of his suit obviously more expensive than the ones he wore most days.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft, more tentative than she’d heard it before.

“Hey yourself,” she responded with and knew she sounded equally unsure, equally awkward. This was new territory. They hadn’t known each other long, but she felt like they had been more adversaries than potential lovers, despite the attraction she felt.

He brought his hand out from behind his back and presented the one red tulip to her. She gasped. “How did you know?”

He smirked and bowed low from the waist

She curtseyed automatically, the gesture almost completely graceless. “Let me guess…Ruby?” She didn’t really have to question it. Ruby was the only one who knew of her rather severe flower allergy, but that tulips did not particularly bother her. The fact that he even thought to _ask_ let her slightly speechless. Gaston had showed up to their first date with a large bunch of lilacs and one asthma attack later, they had been ready to go on their date. _He never even apologized_ , she suddenly realized, though he did at least get rid of the flowers.

“Indeed,” he answered with and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you.” The words came out softer than she expected.

“Whatever for, Miss French?”

“Belle,” she reminded him. “And because you even _thought_ to ask.”

“Yes well.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to do this right.”

She smiled and invited him in. Her place was shabby, but neat, a testament to how little time she spent worrying about its upkeep. Someday she’d have a home of her own and then she would worry about appearances, but for now he’d have to just deal with her sad little apartment. “I’ll just be a moment. I want to put this in water.”

“Of course.”

She rushed to the kitchen, found an old vase that was tucked underneath the counter. She took a quick sniff, hoping she hadn’t accidentally spilled cleaner inside it. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all, and pleased she found nothing, quickly filled it with water and left the single beautiful tulip there on the counter. It was a lovely gesture, made all the more lovely for her ability to actually enjoy it.

“Now,” she said, rushing back into the living room and seeing him standing at one of her bookshelves. “See anything you like?”

He stepped back suddenly, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry.”

“No, no, please. As you might realize, I love to read.” The bookshelves were crammed full of books, one neatly organized, holding all her early edition books, but the rest a mishmash of everything from romance to science-fiction to books on history, science, cooking, and any other subject that might have interested her when she visited the bookstore.

“I can see that.” He still had that same small smile on his face. Stepping forward, he held out an arm. “Shall we go? Our reservations are at 7:30.”

“Of course.” She grabbed her purse and linked her arm through his.

As they stepped out of the apartment and onto the walk outside he turned toward her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

Her breath caught in her throat and she paused for a moment before continuing the walk to the waiting car. “I…no…”

“Well, you are.” He stopped suddenly and she turned toward him. In the heels she was wearing she was almost at his eye level, a strange thing to experience at her height. Gold was not a big man, even though he seemed to easily fill the room any time they were in it. One of his hands came up to briefly cup her chin and for a moment, just one small moment she was sure the date was going to _start_ with the goodnight kiss. Perhaps they could just skip dinner?

“Thank you.”

He nodded and stepped back, releasing her, and with that small movement some of the tension lessened. She could still feel it curling in her belly, butterflies that would not be tamed.

“Your chariot awaits, my dear.” He swept a hand toward the limousine that awaited them as a large man stepped out and opened the door for them.

“Is he a giant?” she whispered, leaning over to speak the words directly into Gold’s ear. She was surprised to see him shiver slightly before he let out a small huff of laughter.

“No, my dear, though Dove does appear to be one at times.” He gave a small quirk of the lips at that. Dove _was_ nearly seven feet tall. To the pair of them that might as well _be_ a giant.

The ride to the restaurant was a quiet one. Gold poured two small glasses of champagne and toasted their hopefully successful date. Belle spoke easily of her hunt for the dress that his eyes told her in no uncertain terms he appreciated. He laughed at the appropriate times and once or twice reached out his hand like he wanted to touch her, pulling back at the last minute.

She wasn’t sure the whole time if she wanted him to push things forward so soon or if she wanted to relax into the date and get to know him more before that. She wasn’t so sure that the night _wouldn’t_ end with her back at his place and all of a sudden she wished she had stuffed a toothbrush into her purse.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, Belle glanced out the window and let out a small gasp. “Remo’s Ristorante? It’s…”

“Not French,” he finished with.

“But…” For a moment Belle thought this was going to be replay of their lunch date and felt her heart sink down to her stomach. But then she noticed the small smile on his face. It wasn’t a smirk. It was soft, the crinkles around his eyes deepening as his eyes met hers.

“You didn’t want to go to a fancy French restaurant.” It was a statement, not a question and Belle’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“No, I didn’t. How did you _know_ that?” She hadn’t told Ruby. She hadn’t told anyone. It had been a flippant remark said in the heat of the moment.

“I just knew,” he said, hands spread out in front of him and Belle suddenly had the feeling he really _got_ her. It was a little bit frightening really, how in tune with her he was. But she smiled and shook her head and allowed Dove to open the door and escort her out.

Gold was at her side instantly, one hand on his cane, the other coming to rest at the small of her back, guiding her into the restaurant. The feel of his thumb coming into contact with the bare skin near the base of her spine, tracing light circles there as he opened the door with the hand that held the cane, left her feeling weirdly shivery. “I think you’ll love this place,” he said quietly as she stepped in ahead of him.

He was right, of course. The restaurant was small, quaint. They were shown to a seat in a quiet out of the way corner and drinks were quickly brought out. Belle suspected he had ordered ahead of time, his obvious wealth getting him whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. It made her slightly uncomfortable for a brief moment. Belle had never been rich, growing up the daughter of a working class father, her mother dying at a young age. And then her father had made lousy financial decisions and they had gone from staunchly middle class to struggling lower class, selling the house and moving into cheaper and cheaper apartments every year. Gold had wealth like someone who had had it all his life.

“How did you know about this place?” Belle asked at last, trying to break the somewhat awkward silence that had fallen on them. The place was tiny and out of the way, not the kind of place someone who wasn’t a local would likely know about.

“Meticulous research of course, Miss…” He hesitated there, probably noting the look on her face. “Belle,” he finished with, one hand making a gesture in the air.

“Really?” One eyebrow rose.

“You don’t believe me?” He held a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded.”

Belle let out a laugh. “No, I don’t believe you. But we’ll let that one pass. It’s a lovely restaurant.”

He glanced around himself, seeming to notice the décor for the first time. “It is.” It was almost perfectly suited to her tastes, upscale without being overly pretentious, the kind of place you could dress nice to go to without feeling like you had to wear a ball gown or worry about the silverware.

“So tell me about Storybrooke,” Belle said after a small pause, surprised to see him flinch away from the word a bit. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I guess I did my research too.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “No. It’s fine. Storybrooke was…well…quaint. It was a good place to get away from it all.”

She desperately wanted to ask _why_ he had to get away. There was no indication as to what exactly had happened to him that caused him to retreat in such a way. But she didn’t dare ask. Not yet. Perhaps someday…if this all went well.

“I’m sure it was lovely.”

“I’m quite sure it wasn’t,” he responded with and there was that bit of humor coming back.

“Well, perhaps sometime you can tell me about it…” She let the words hang in the air for a moment.

“Perhaps,” he responded with and turned to the menu. It might be easier that way, really. He had closed off slightly and Belle was desperate to get things back on track. He wasn’t an easy man to get to know, but he had asked her out and so seemed to want to open up at least a _little_. It might take time, peeling one layer slowly back at a time, but she suspected what was at his core was worth it.

The waiter came a short while later and took their order, a good reprieve to set things back to how they were before. They could talk about the food that was coming, allowing those brief moments of small talk to remove the tension.

“So I suppose this is where I’m supposed to ask you about yourself?” Gold finally said, turning the conversation back toward more intimate topics.

“I suppose,” Belle responded with. If he got to be mysterious, she did too. Not that her life was exactly one of much interest.

He cleared his throat and she knew the question that was on his mind, though she wasn’t sure he would actually get around to asking it. “I…”

“Gaston got me involved,” she said quickly. Better to pull the bandaid off in one fell swoop.

“I see.”

“He didn’t know. He thought it was just a regular audition.” She still could remember the look on his face when she walked out, face bright red. The man had suggested stripping down so they could see what she had to offer and she had rushed out, embarrassed and angry.

“But you went back.”

Belle let out a nervous laugh. “Obviously. I already told you about my father.”

“So you did.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Can we talk about something else? I think you can piece together enough of the story. I imagine it’s one you’ve heard many times before.”

He shook his head, smile playing about his lips. “I’ve never had any interest in the women who came to work for me.”

“Then why me?”

“Why not?” he shot back.

Belle laughed. “I suppose that’s a good enough answer.”

He reached out and took her hand in his, warm fingers enveloping hers. “Belle.” The way he said her name caused shivers to go down her spine. It was warm, but dark, promising things that were better left unsaid for the moment. “You are special. Never forget that.”

Belle was thankful the waiter showed up in that moment with their meal. The tension was getting to be almost _too_ much, smothering her, making it a little hard to breathe. Come to think of it, it was _often_ like that with Gold around.

Their dinners’ arrival helped to lighten the conversation and the topics turned to favorite books, a good-natured argument about what constituted modern literature and whether or not they could even make such a judgment call, and their favorite music. She was surprised to find out he liked Late Romantic symphonies. He didn’t expect her to like old jazz standards. When he found out she enjoyed singing them, he dared her to sing a line or two and she simply refused on the grounds that she hadn’t had quite enough to drink for that one, thank you very much. He gave her a wicked grin and vowed to get her drunk next time they went out.

Belle liked the sound of that “next time” thing. She wasn’t so sure about the drunken karaoke bit, however.

His phone rang just after they had ordered dessert. Belle had opted for the house tiramisu. It was a weakness of hers. She simply could _not_ pass up a good tiramisu. Gold had laughed at her enthusiasm and she had threatened him with her fork. Gold had ordered Gelato, admitting that he had a fondness for the creamy Italian ice cream. Desserts, it seemed, were something they both enjoyed and she was happy they were at least comfortable enough with each other to admit it.

The phone ringing had been a surprise, but Gold quickly pulled it out and hit a button to send it to voicemail. “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten to turn it to silent.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t important?”

“Not more important than _this_.” And his voice was so _honest_ that Belle felt the butterflies in her stomach take wing, sharp and hard, leaving her feeling breathless for a moment.

She cleared her throat, unsure of what to say in response to that, when the phone rang _again_. He gave her a look full of consternation and embarrassment and picked up the phone.

“Are you sure…”

“Yes.” He glanced down at the phone and frowned at whatever he saw there, before cutting off the call and turning the phone off. He leaned forward, taking her hand in his briefly. “We won’t be disturbed again.” His voice was warm, his hand even warmer.

“I like the sound of that.” She was amazed at the husky tone to her voice. The way his hand lightly caressed hers did funny things to her insides.

He nodded and started to speak when Belle’s phone rang. “What the…” She picked up her purse and felt around for the obnoxiously ringing thing. Guests were starting to stare when she finally found it just as it stopped ringing. “I’m so sorry.”

“It seems we’re in the same boat. Nothing to apologize for, my dear.”

“Right.” She glanced down at the phone and her eyebrows lowered a little.

“What is it?”

‘It’s just…” She looked down at the phone again. “Ruby.”

“Did you skip girls’ night for this?” The teasing note in his voice made her smile for a brief moment before she glanced down at the phone again.

“No. It’s just…Ruby knew I was on a date.”

“Did she now?”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Ruby knows everything…”

“Someone had to protect you from the monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” Belle cut him off with and realized how much she completely _believed_ that. He might be difficult. He might be contrary and a bit cantankerous. But he was not monstrous and for some reason it was _important_ to her that he understood she truly believed that. She frowned at the phone again. She couldn’t imagine any _good_ reason Ruby would call her. If she was just checking on her, she would have texted. Calling her in the middle of the date somehow seemed more important.

“What?”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Call her back.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Make sure she’s ok.”

Belle eyed him for a moment longer before turning to her phone and dialing Ruby back. It hadn’t even rung once when Ruby answered it. “Belle. I know you’re on your date with Gold how’s that going by the way?” The words came out in a rush and Belle just blinked once. She had no chance to respond before Ruby was talking again, speaking in frantic tones.

She knew Gold couldn’t hear the phone from across the table, but he suddenly leaned forward, the worried crease between his eyebrows deepening. “Right…We’ll be right there.” She disconnected the call and stared up at Gold, a bit disconcerted by the whole thing.

“Well?” he asked and she knew he probably didn’t want to hear the answer.

“The studio,” she started with, pausing because she didn’t quite know how to say it. “It’s flooding.”

The waiter chose that moment to deliver their desserts, beautifully presented in their respective bowls. Gold just gave a sigh and Belle well knew how he was feeling. “I think we’re going to need those to go,” he said and Belle just put her head in her hands.

This was not quite the end to their date she had imagined.


	9. Chapter 9

Gold had cursed a blue streak while waiting for the desserts to not only be boxed up but put in a container full of ice. He had paid quickly, not even glancing at the bill before handing his credit card over. They were rushing out the door as he signed the slip, Belle slightly ahead of him.

Flooded. Gold didn’t even know how something like that could happen, though he had a damned good idea what might have gone on there. Dove had driven them back at top speed to the studio, running through a few lights that had just changed to red and making Gold cringe. He knew Dove was a careful driver but when told to “push it” by his boss, he knew to push it. They arrived at the studio within twenty minutes of Ruby’s call to Belle.

And they arrived to find total and complete chaos.

“No no… _this_ camera. Get it up! Out of the water. Grab the plug before the whole thing fries.”

“Someone get to the lights. Over there!”

“My script is soaked!”

“Who cares about your stupid script? We need to secure the sound equipment.”

“Ouch!”

“Did you get shocked?”

“I’m fine! Just get this out of the water.”

Equipment was being hoisted every which way. David Nolan went running by with two cameras above his head, Leroy right behind him with various bits of gadgetry that Gold wouldn’t even try to understand. “Upstairs, guys!” Leroy shouted over his shoulder. “There’s a storage room that’s not being used at the back. Get all the equipment there.”

A few dismayed looks greeted him. David turned back briefly. “Just get it up there, everyone. We’ll assess damage later.”

For a little bit no one even seemed to notice Gold and Belle stepping into the midst of the chaotic atmosphere, so focused on their tasks that anything else was overlooked. In a way, he was proud of them for being so attentive.

A young woman flew at them. “I swear this is not my fault.” Her hands fluttered strangely, wringing together for a moment before Belle shooed her away.

Gold cocked his head slightly to the side before turning to Belle. “Who the hell is _that_?”

Belle gave him a sheepish look. “Our new cameraman…well…woman. Astrid!” she called and the woman came running back, running into one of the cameras that had yet to be picked up and nearly knocking it into the water at their feet.

“What exactly _did_ happen?”

“Ohhh.” She wrung her hands again. “I don’t know. We…well, Leroy and I…” Gold was surprised to see her cheeks flush a bit at that. “We were just talking when he noticed this trickle of water. And before we could even go find the source it became a torrent. And well…this.” She waved her hand around her. “I really should go help.” And with a small squeak she ran off again.

Belle turned to Gold. “Water main break?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well don’t just stand there!” Leroy suddenly shouted at them, rushing over with more equipment in hand. “If you’re here you…” He paused, taking them in. “Are you two on a date?”

“We were,” Belle admitted.

“Good job, sister!” Leroy said, his bearded face breaking out into a grin for a second before turning serious again. “Now get to work!”

Belle jumped and gave Gold a sideways look. “Well, you heard him. I guess we should pitch in.”

“Of course.” H watched as Belle shook her head, finally seeming to break free of the inertia shock had brought about. “I need to hit my dressing room first. If I’m going to help, high heels aren’t going to cut it.”

She turned to leave when she nearly ran into David Nolan. He glanced at her, glanced over at Gold, and Gold watched as he fought the smirk that threatened to break out on his face. “Are you guys on a date?”

“What the hell do _you_ think, Nolan?” Gold snapped at him.

“I think you’re on a date.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“We don’t have time for this.”

Belle turned back and put a hand on his arm. “Gold,” she said softly and he felt his mood lighten just slightly. This might destroy the whole studio but this wouldn’t destroy whatever it was he was starting here with her.

“I called 911,” Nolan said, voice turning serious again. “The city’s on its way to fix this.”

Gold nodded. “Good. Now get back to work.”

Belle rushed off to change and Gold shrugged off his suit jacket and tie, hanging both up on a high rack. They might still end up in the rising water at their feet, but at least for _now_ they were safe.

* * *

She found Gold slumped against the wall when it was all over. Everything had been taken to the storage rooms, dried off. There was no telling what would work and what wouldn’t, but Leroy thought most things were salvageable thanks to so many people pitching in so quickly. They had worked hard, removing water with buckets, mopping floors, getting equipment out to safety. It had been a true team effort and Belle had been so very proud of everyone for working so well together.

“So there you are,” she said and he glanced up at her. He had long since abandoned his suit jacket, his tie was off, the buttons undone at the top of his shirt. The bottom of his pants were soaked and his shirt clung to him in several wet spots. She had no doubt that his expensive leather shoes were probably ruined. His hair was in complete disarray. The well put together Gold that she knew had disappeared and was replaced with someone who looked utterly drained.

“Here I am,” he responded with, exhaustion evident in the quietness of his voice. He shut his eyes for a moment, leaned his head back against the wall.

“Dessert?” She held up the plastic box containing the Gelato the restaurant had quickly scraped into it.

“Ah yes, our _date_. Perhaps you’d care to join me on this very wonderful and comfortable floor?”

Belle found herself laughing at the self-deprecating humor and joined him, sitting close at this side and spreading her legs out in front of her. It definitely wasn’t comfortable, but collapsing onto the ground after the night they’d had seemed to be best. She handed him the Gelato and a plastic spoon she had pilfered from the lunch room. “Well, it was a memorable one at least?”

“It was that, wasn’t it?” He finally glanced at her. “Are you wearing a bathrobe?”

She felt herself blush and muttered her response. “My clothes were soaked.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I see.”

She knew damned well what he was wondering. Just what _was_ under the bathrobe? She had contemplated changing back into her dress after the whole disaster was over, but she just couldn’t bring herself to get back into it when she was such a mess. Instead, she had taken a shower, thrown the wet clothes into the dryer, and put on the bathrobe. It covered all the pertinent parts after all.

“You really should change,” she pointed out as a way to change the subject.

“I am rather wet, aren’t I?”

“Rather.” She smirked as she eyed him up and down. It wasn’t that she minded really. The way the shirt clung to him and the undone buttons was not something she could overlook. But she did worry that he would take a chill as they cooled off from the all the activity.

They fell into silence for a moment, both content to sit side by side and eat their desserts. This wasn’t quite the ending of the date Belle saw. Perhaps a walk outside, a nice drive home, maybe even a kiss on parting, though she couldn’t honestly say she’d be able to stop with just the kiss. But at the same time, there had been something…well, she couldn’t quite explain it…something just plain _nice_ to see the immaculate Mr. Gold chip in to help mop up floors and save the equipment of a studio she wasn’t even sure he really had cared about.

“You care,” she finally said out loud.

He turned to look at her. “About?”

“About this studio.” She waved an arm around her. “About the people in it. About their livelihoods.”

“I…”

“You _do_. I can see it.” There was a layer there, one that had peeled off just a slight bit. He had been part of the team instead of separate. Equal instead of above them.

“I think I’ll go change,” he managed to get out, pulling his cane to himself and using the wall to create the leverage to get to his feet.

“There are a bunch of robes in the guys’ dressing room,” she pointed out. He gave her a slight grimace as he moved away. “They’re cleaned every night.”

He just shook his head and went on his way and Belle set to finishing her Tiramisu. It was delicious, even dumped into a plastic container and eaten with a plastic spoon. Creamy, perfectly balanced. It would have been a lovely end to their date. It still was, she supposed, despite her sitting on the ground in the main room of the studio, surrounded by drying floors and devoid of almost all equipment.

Gold returned twenty minutes later, wearing a robe that was ridiculously large on him, yet still managing to look rather dignified despite the wet hair and robe. “My clothes are drying.” He sunk back to the ground at her side. “Probably ruined,” he added.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he pointed out.

“I know, but still. I’m sorry anyway. They looked good on you.” She felt herself blush as the last words came out. She hadn’t quite _meant_ to say them, though the thought had been there since he had first picked her up. That felt like a hundred years ago and she realized the aches were starting to settle into her body from all the work of the past few hours.

“Thank you,” he said and she knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry our date was such a disaster. This wasn’t quite how I planned for this to go.”

“It’s not a disaster. We’re still here, right?” He nodded. “So how _did_ you plan it to go, anyway?”

He let out a small laugh at that and she found the sound of it warmed her heart. “Well, I expected to sweep you off your feet with a lovely little Italian restaurant…”

“Which you did,” she pointed out and was rewarded with a crooked smile.

“At least part of my plan was a success.”

She inched a little closer to him. “And so what else?”

“We might have taken a nice walk in the moonlight on the beach?”

She leaned over, put her head on his shoulder. “Devastatingly romantic.”

“Indeed. That _was_ the goal after all.”

“It would have worked.”

“It would have, would it?”

She liked the teasing note in his voice and nodded against his shoulder. “And what about _after_ our moonlight walk?”

She turned to look up at him then as he turned to look at her. This close she could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, see the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. He brought one hand up and lightly touched her cheek. “Well, then I suppose I’d have taken you home and if you were so inclined, give you a goodnight kiss and a promise of another date soon.”

She made a slight humming noise in the back of her throat, moved a little closer to him, hips touching, and reached out to put a hand on his thigh. The muscles beneath her hand tensed almost immediately. “Perhaps we could just skip the walk on the beach part?”

The hand touching her cheek suddenly came to cup it. “I’ve never heard a better idea in my life.” And then he was pulling her toward him at the same time he was moving toward her and his lips just lightly touched hers. The fire was almost instant. It raced from her lips straight down to her groin and when she gasped, he took complete advantage. He slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss as his tongue sought out all the sensitive places on the inside of her mouth.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been kissed like this, wasn’t even sure if she had _ever_ been kissed like this, as if she was simply being _consumed_ by someone. She moaned deep in her throat, the sound pulled from her without thinking and Gold tugged at her, pulled her closer.

She moved suddenly then, not even quite aware of what her body was doing. But she found herself straddling his lap, hands on either side of his face, feeling the heat and hardness of him pressing into her. She couldn’t say she was one who generally _liked_ to be in control, but somehow she felt powerful being on top of him, hearing him gasp when she came into contact with him, knowing there was little that separated the two of them.  

His lips left hers then, finding her earlobe and sucking it into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. He traced kisses down her neck, pushing her hair back and nibbling at the delicate skin he found there. Belle threw her head back, allowing him more access. Her hands found their way into the opening of his robe, running along the smooth planes of his chest.

She liked the feel of him, slight and wiry, a perfect complement to her really. And she _really_ liked the soft sigh he made when her hand came into contact with his warm flesh.

“Ok I think we got all of this…” The voice trailed off as the speaker came around the corner. “Oh God.” Belle jumped up and back, wrapping the robe tight around herself and looking down to where Gold sat, slightly dazed. She stepped in front of him, blocking the newcomer’s view of Gold. She felt protective for some reason, didn’t want anyone to see him as anything less than perfectly put together.

She certainly didn’t want anyone to see the tent that had formed in his robe, evidence of what they had been doing when he arrived.

She finally met the eyes of the person who had come to disturb them. “David,” she murmured and hated the way her voice sounded so breathless.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in front of him, face red with his embarrassment.

Belle shrugged. It wasn’t like David hadn’t seen her doing such things before and though this felt different, though this was _real_ , it still didn’t faze her as much as it probably should. She almost let out a small laugh at that, realizing that getting naked and having sex in front of people was her _thing_. She never could have imagined herself being so comfortable in such a way.

“What can I do for your Mr. Nolan?” Gold asked. He had managed to grab onto his cane and leverage himself to his feet with the help of the wall. He didn’t exactly look dignified standing there in a fluffy white robe, cane held in front of him as if that would hide his shrinking erection.

David, thankfully, was smart enough to do nothing more than look Gold in the eye. His eyes didn’t stray down any further. They didn’t stray to Belle. “We were just checking on some of the equipment…sir.”

Gold gave a slight grin at that. “Don’t _sir_ me, Nolan. I’m standing here half naked in a bathrobe. There’s no dignity to be saved.”

Belle laughed and looped her arm through his. “Did the Gelato go to your head?” she whispered, leaning close to him as she did so.

“Is that what this pounding headache is?” he responded with. “Worst ice cream headache I’ve ever had, I’m afraid.”

“I…um…”

Ruby came flying around the corner, all high heels and tight dress. “All set, David?” She stopped and stared at the scene she had disrupted for a moment before erupting in laughter. “I _told_ you, Belle!”

“Miss Lucas?” Gold nearly growled the words at her but she seemed to not be fazed at all, giving Belle a ridiculous smile and a thumbs up before turning to Gold. Her face turned more serious.

“Most of the cameras seem to be fine from what we can tell. There was one that was dropped…”

“Dropped?” Belle didn’t like the dangerous note to Gold's voice.

“It was slippery,” Ruby said in answer and Belle watched a muscle twitch in Gold’s jaw. “It was an accident.”

“Just who _did_ this anyway?”

“It’s not important,” Belle started to say.

“Of _course_ it is,” he snapped back and immediately shut his eyes, a look of consternation across his face. “No. It’s not. This was a disaster from start to finish.”

Belle turned to the other two and they nodded, turned, and left. It was perhaps easier that way. Gold was out of sorts, exhausted, and obviously was starting to lose the tight control he had over his anger. “Do you want to talk about it?” she finally managed to ask.

He gave a sigh, opened his eyes. “No. I just…we’ll talk later, maybe?” He reached out a hand and touched her cheek, just a light caress.

“Ok.” For a moment they simple said nothing, just stood close together in the rather disconcerting light of the studio. “I should get dressed.”

“As should I.”

Belle nodded at him and departed to her dressing room. She glanced at her dress once more, considered putting it back on, at least ending the date on a high note. But no…the date was where it was. They had come damned near close to having sex right there on the floor of the studio. She felt her cheeks warm at the thought and her body well remembered the sensations. Too well, really. She could still feel his hands cupping her face, could still feel him beneath her.

She wasn’t _ready_ for that dammit, not for that kind of emotional entanglement. A date had felt safe, a way to work up toward more intimacy if and when she was ready. Probably if and when _Gold_ was ready for that matter, she realized as he had stumbled off to get dressed, leaning awkwardly on his cane and looking a little dazed about it all.

The ride home from the studio was a quiet affair. They had walked out to his car, only a few words spoken between them. This was supposed to be the end to a date that was meant to be a nice outing. Instead they had ended up half drowned, exhausted, and nearly screwing like a couple randy teenagers. She was wearing sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt for God’s sake. Gold was back in his suit, but it had not weathered the dirty water and subsequent drying very well.

They both smelled of the water their clothes had been soaked in.

When he pulled back up in front of her apartment, she turned to him, uncertain what to say after the events of the evening. “I’d invite you in, but…”

He nodded, a slightly pained look about his face. “I’m sorry for that.”

“For what?”

“For…what happened back there.” He gave her a rather weak smile with the words.

“If you mean the flood situation, that was certainly not your fault. If you mean what happened _after_ …” She couldn’t help the self-deprecating smile that briefly crossed her face. “I believe I was the one who crawled into your lap, not the other way around.”

He made a non-committal humming noise. “I suppose that _is_ true.”

“Indeed.”

“Well, then I suppose you’ll just have to owe me something.” The words were said with humor and just a touch of flirtation.

“And what, pray tell, should I owe you?”

“A second date would suffice.” And his face was serious in that moment, the smile gone, eyes wide.

“I’d like that,” she said softly.

He leaned toward her and cupped her face, his lips touching hers for just a moment. It was soft, sweet, nothing like the kisses they had shared at the studio. It was how Belle had imagine this night might end, if the date had gone the way she had expected it to.

“Good,” he whispered and she opened the door and stepped out, giving him a small wave before heading inside. As she turned to close the door she saw him nod once, lean back in the car, and then they were gone, driving off into the night.


	10. Chapter 10

They had been checking on the damage to the studio for what felt like far too long. David took inventory of what was usable, what needed to be fixed. Leroy was down on the first floor with the city inspectors trying to find out if it had been a water main break or if something else had ultimately caused the flooding.

Leroy took one look at what the folks from the city were showing him and let out a low whistle. "That sure doesn't look like any water main break _I've_ seen."

"I don't understand," came the voice from close behind him. Astrid. She was new, a sweet but clumsy camera woman that Belle had convinced to come on board behind Gold's back. Oh, he'd find out eventually, he was sure of it. And he understood she had met the beast at least _once_ so far, but the chaos had made it unclear as to who she was and what was going on. Belle had assured had assured Astrid that Gold needed someone to replace David, who she was sure would be hired on to act in his new movie.

Astrid had been hesitant but once Leroy and the timid young woman's eyes had met, it just didn't matter. She was on board and Gold be damned.

Leroy turned as Astrid entered the room and his face lit up at the sight. "This was cut." He glanced back down at the pipe held by one of the inspectors. He had expected to find a burst pipe. He had experience with those, had seen the cracks in pipes, the way the metal bent outward. But this was sliced clean across. Nothing but a hacksaw could have made such a cut across it.

The inspector leaned closer to it, ran his finger across the sharp metal at the edges. "Whoever did this knew what they were doing."

"They did." Leroy was used to plumbing. He knew about electrical issues. The person who did this seemed to be equally as knowledgeable. Moreover they knew the studio. They knew where to cut the water, how and where to make the right cut in the pipes. They were able to do both and get in and out without being noticed.

"Any idea who might have done this?" the inspector asked and Leroy just kept staring. He felt Astrid behind him, felt her small hand come down on his shoulder.

"Not a clue," he finally managed to say.

This was _not_ going to go over well with Gold and he dreaded having to tell him the news.

* * *

Belle really wasn’t sure how to act around Gold the next day. The date had gone well, perhaps a little _too_ well, if she were to count their moments spent on the floor of the studio. But it had been a disaster at the same time.

Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t even set foot in the studio the next day. The weekends were _hers_. Hers to do as she wished, hers to enjoy, hers to forget what she did during the week. But this Saturday was different. She felt that she needed to swing by, make sure everything was ok. She had a feeling most of the actors and crew of the studio would be there and it simply wouldn’t be _right_ for her to stay home this day no matter how much she wanted to curl into bed with a good book and ignore the world.

She walked in the door and the place simply thrummed with activity. There were usually a few people around on the rare time she came in on a weekend, but the lights were kept low and everyone was quiet. She liked those moments of walking through the studio when no one else was around. It somehow felt relaxing, calming. There was no need to be in front of the camera, no directions shouted at her, no glaring lights fixed on her body. And so she enjoyed those rare moments of peace in the studio.

Today the lights were up, bright. She heard something about inspectors there to find out what went wrong and she suspected that Gold was there somewhere, overseeing it all. He had shown the night before exactly how much he cared for their little studio. She hadn't expected him to pitch in, had in fact expected him to crawl off to his office and only poke his head out if needed. But instead he had rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

She had seen a different side of him the night before, a side that was softer, with less edge than the one he generally showed. It had been too busy for her to really stop and admire him while everything was going on, but she had spent much of the night after thinking about everything that had occurred the night before.

And she was impressed.

She admitted it. His knowing her preferences without even having to ask, his finding out about her thoughts on flowers, his rushing off to the studio and helping to fix the problem. It was something she admired, something she just _liked_. Frankly, she hadn't expected to find the man quite so likeable. She thought it would take some time to peel back the layers to the good man she knew lurked beneath the surface, the good man she _knew_ was there, hidden beneath the sarcasm and aloofness.

But she had seen it already. One layer gone. So many more to go.

There was a history there that she was more than curious to find out. And getting more and more curious about it all the time.

"Belle!" She heard the voice before her eyes managed to focus on the speaker.

Ruby, who had been the only person to know about her date.

Ruby, the person who had caught them nearly going at it on the floor like a couple of randy teenagers.

Ruby, who wanted all the details.

"Oh no," Belle muttered and tried to sneak away. But she was well and truly caught. Ruby wouldn't take that for answer, oh no, wouldn't let her get away with at least _some_ dignity intact.

"You owe me, girl," she said, rushing forward and linking her arm with hers. "I want all the details."

"I think you got more than enough last night…"

"All what details?" Ariel asked as she walked past. Her ever curious bubbly nature wouldn't allow her to pass up such gossip. And _she_ had not been there the night before. The hair stylist had apparently been unreachable, likely out on a date with her charming boyfriend Eric. They had been seeing each other for some time now and if the rumors Belle had heard were correct, they were getting quite serious.

"About her _date_ ," Ruby whispered, all bright eyes and conspiratorial smirk.

Ariel let out a little squeal. "You had a _date_? Why didn't you _tell_ me? I'm always left in the dark." She finished the last words on a slight pout.

"Yes…well..." Belle wasn't sure where to go with that. All she wanted to do was duck out, find Gold, maybe talk about the night before. Or that second date he had promised her.

"She probably doesn't want anyone to know." Ruby gave her a knowing look.

"Oh is this a _secret_?" Ariel's eyes lit up a little. "I can keep a secret. Come on, let's dish."

She looped her arm through Belle's other arm and started to tug the women off toward Belle's dressing room.

"Can we just _not_?" Belle asked suddenly, stopping both women in their tracks.

"What?" Ariel responded with.

"This. I just don't want to talk about it." She tried to give Ruby a _look_ , but it didn't work on the other woman. It never did, really.

"But why?" Ariel asked, all light and innocence.

"Because her date was with Gold," Ruby said, voice matter of fact but a certain sparkle in her eyes.

Ariel's screech nearly pierced Belle's eardrums. "Gold? _Really_?"

"Yes, really," came the voice behind them. Smooth, sardonic. Belle wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Ariel let out a little squeak. "Oops! Gotta go!" She gave Belle one last look, one Belle was sure was telling her she'd get to the bottom of it all later, grabbed Ruby's arm and hauled the taller woman off with her. Ruby laughed all the way down the hallway and Belle was absolutely sure that she would be telling all she knew to Ariel soon enough.

With a sigh she turned back to the man in question. "Gold."

He looked wary for a moment, eyes slightly narrowed. The after date awkward meeting at work. She had, quite honestly, hoped to avoid this. Not avoid _him_ , really, but she had been aiming for getting to his office unseen by the rest of the cast and crew. "Belle," he responded with and the way he said her name caused a shiver to go up her spine.

They stood for a moment, tension high. Belle wasn’t sure what to say to him after the night before. She wasn’t sure where they stood, what was going on, who they _were_ to each other after last night.

Finally he managed a ghost of a smile. “Would you care to join me for tea?”

She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and nodded. “How very quaint,” she finally managed to say and could not help the way the amusement entered her voice.

He gave a low chuckle. “I _am_ Scottish, after all. Tea is what we do.”

“I suppose that it would be.” She held her arm out. “Lead the way.”

They crossed paths with no one on the way to his office and for that she was remarkably thankful. Most of the studio probably knew they had been on a date by now. Those who hadn’t seen them arrive together still all dressed up from their date had no doubt been informed by those who had seen them that _something_ was going on there. Gossip. There had been enough when she and Gaston had broken up. There had been more than enough after he had been fired.

She was, really, a little tired of being the subject of wagging tongues. But it seemed she would manage to get herself into these situations one way or another. And it wasn’t like she could have seen Gold and this whole _thing_ they had coming anyway.

They entered his office, the door closing behind them and she felt even _more_ awkward in that moment. They had left things rather up in the air, the promise of another date but little else. But certainly their mutual attraction had been acknowledged. And Belle could only imagine where things might have gone had they been alone in the studio. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank Ruby and David or strangle them both.

“Please, have a seat,” Gold said and pulled one of the chairs closer to his at the desk.

“You already have the tea ready?”

He gave her a small smile. “Well, I _had_ hoped you’d come in today.”

“Thank you,” she said as she accepted the cup he passed her. They sipped in silence for a moment before she managed to get out the one question that was actually really bothering her. It had been for awhile really, but she wasn’t sure how to address it and wasn’t honestly sure how it hadn’t come up the night before. She supposed she had been a little enthralled, a little intimidated, half in lust and infatuation and so hadn’t managed to get it out. “So it seems I’m still at a bit of a disadvantage with you,” she began with.

“Oh?” He set his cup down on the table and she liked that he gave her his full attention in that moment. “How so?”

“I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Gold.”

“ _Mister_ Gold,” she pointed out. “That leaves out one important bit of the picture.”

“Does it?” He picked up his cup again, took a sip. The look he gave her over the rim was one part amusement and one part entirely unreadable.

“Your first name. I really don’t think I should be dating someone whose first name I don’t even know.”

He gave a small huff of laughter. “It’s Scottish and entirely unpronounceable.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh it can.”

“Come on, MacGyver always hated his and it turned out to be Angus. Not exactly a difficult name to pronounce.”

“You’re comparing me to some character on a TV show?” He sounded incredulous and frankly, Belle was waiting for him to launch off into something else in the hopes of changing the subject. But she was adamant.

“I just want to know it. I can keep calling you Gold.” She smirked. "At least in public."

He sighed. "You're really serious."

"I am." One eyebrow rose as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine." The knock at the door that came a mere second after that made his shoulders drop and Belle knew it was complete relief to him.

She leaned down close to him, lips ever so close to his ear. "We'll continue this discussion later."

He shivered and she pulled away just seconds before Leroy burst through the door, David hot on his heels. "You're not gonna like this," the gruff man started off with and she could see Gold tense up.

"I imagine I'm not going to." The words were smooth. _Too_ smooth, really. Belle studied him as he carefully schooled his face into a rather bland smile.

Belle watched as Leroy took a deep breath. “It was done on purpose.”

“The flood?” she suddenly interjected.

Leroy glanced at her. “Yeah. Someone cut the pipes, turned up the water. _Someone_ messed with it.” His voice was a low growl on the last line. He looked more than annoyed. He looked downright angry. Leroy had always had a soft spot for the studio, taking care of things not just in a timely manner but with a sort of gruff affection that he would deny if asked.

“I see,” Gold replied with. “Well, thank you for that information. I’m sure you can see yourself out.”

“That’s it?” David finally managed to get out. He stepped out in front of Leroy, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Unless there’s any other information you’d care to share…” Gold said, waving one hand in the air.

“I don’t know anything else,” David responded with and looked to Leroy, who shook his head.

“Well, then there’s the door.” As Leroy and David shuffled backward it, Gold added a soft thank you and then they were gone.

The door shut behind them and Belle was instantly in action. “We need to call the cops.” She was reaching for her cell phone when his next word froze her.

“No.”

“What?” The word came out quick, forceful.

“No. We’re not calling the cops.” He stated it so simply, as if he were talking about the weather or what he had for breakfast.

“But…”

“No.” His voice had gone cold and he turned away from her to study the papers on his desk.

“So the studio was sabotaged, God knows how much equipment damaged, and we’re just going to let the person get away with it?” She felt the outrage bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. She knew he was infuriating, but who knew he could be so ridiculously obtuse?

“Of course not,” he said with a small huff of laughter.

Belle leaned forward in her chair. “Perhaps you could let me in on this little _joke_? Because last time I checked you were dating me…”

“Is _that_ what you call it?”

Belle stood then, rounded on him. She wanted to _hurt_ him then, smack some sense into him, grab his long hair and climb onto his lap and kiss the bastard until he saw some sort of reason.

“Don’t act like that,” she chided and was amazed when he suddenly sat back, hands raised in a position of surrender.

His eyes briefly closed. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

She took a deep breath. "Are you? Are you really?"

He met her eyes briefly. "Of course." The response was quick, natural. She let out the breath she was still holding and relaxed just slightly.

"So will you tell me what the hell is going on then?" She didn't mean the words to come out so harsh, but this whole thing was ridiculous. He _knew_ something. She knew he knew something.

"No."

"No? Just like that?" He stared at her, eyes wide. Shaking her head slightly, she finally stood and took a step toward the door. "You're never going to let me in, are you?" He didn't respond and she could see a small twitch in his cheek. "When you have the courage to let me in, you know where to find me." She got all the way to the door, hand on the knob, before she heard him clear his throat and speak.

"Regina," was all he managed to say.

Belle turned back toward him. "What?"

"The one who sabotaged things. Her name is Regina."

She arched one of her eyebrows and smirked in amusement. "Old girlfriend?"

He let out an indelicate snort. "Hardly."

"Then?"

He sighed and waved her back into the room. She stepped a couple feet closer. "More like a former rival."

"Another director?"

"She'd like to think so." He gave her a tight smile.

"And so we're not reporting her, why?" This was making less sense all the time. He knew who did it. He could pin the blame on her and get her arrested. When he didn’t answer her she narrowed her eyes on him. "There's more to the story than just that isn't there?"

"Likely."

"Likely? That's your answer? There's _likely_ something more to it than that." She couldn't even get up the energy to be angry about it. She had thought, for just a moment, that he was letting her inside his mind a little bit. He had shown a bit of openness in confessing who the saboteur was, but he had closed up quickly. Parts of his past would always be off limits, she feared. And what did that say about their budding relationship? If he couldn't be open with her, did that mean they could ever _actually_ be together?

"I'm not going to let her get away with it." His voice was quiet and steadfast.

"Of course not," Belle answered. "But you're still not letting me in." She opened the door.

"Belle, wait." He held up a hand, reached out like he was trying to physically stop her but still he didn't get up, follow her.

"No, not right now." She gave him a sad smile and disappeared out the door. When he was ready, he'd come for her. And if he didn't, if he wanted to stay closed up forever, then she just didn't know _what_ she was going to do.


	11. Chapter 11

Auditions had gone well. Well, mostly well. Belle had been friendly, but distant, throughout the entire process. Gold had gotten a chance to watch her work with several people, some good, some terrible, but she was always brilliant. _Always_. Even hours after they started, even when put up against some of the most ridiculous acting he had ever seen. Somehow she remained fresh and excited about the process right up to the end of the day. And there had been _many_ days that he left with a headache and craving something alcoholic to wash the day away.

David Nolan had been hired on to play the part of the fiancé and he had been perfect for the role just as Belle had thought he would be. Ruby had been a different story but there was some sort of spark there, something that Gold had agreed he could work with. Truth be told, she wasn't the best actress. He was sure she was fine for the adult industry, but it would be a struggle to get what he needed out of her. But he was willing to. For Belle's sake more than anything else. The way she had lit up when he agreed to cast Ruby had made it all worth it. Even if all he had gotten was a quick hug and her rushing off with her best friend.

He wished he could say that at the end of each day they went out, went home together, had more than a somewhat friendly conversation. They hadn't been alone together since that day in his office, since she walked out.

He knew she was right, dammit. He knew he wasn't letting her in. But how could he? Why would she want to? Belle was sweet, kind. She was everything he was not. There was a darkness to his soul and a past that was quickly catching up to him. And faster than he'd like.

They had started filming two days ago and so far it seemed like every time he turned around some disaster befell them. At first he was sure most of it was due to their new camera woman. Astrid her name was. She was smart, funny, a little bit ditzy and perhaps the biggest klutz he had ever met in his entire life. He had agreed to keep her on only because she was actually a genius with the camera. Nolan, who she had replaced, had been competent, but Astrid was exactly what they needed. Even if on her first day there she had tripped over a cord and destroyed one of the boom mics.

But slowly he became sure that there was something more sinister going on and the time that he came in to find several cords chewed through and rats loose in the studio he was _sure_ someone had broken in to leave them there. It was exactly the kind of ridiculous sabotage Regina would try.

He was the first into the studio that night as he so often was. It was one of his favorite rituals, really, walking the quiet and nearly dark studio. He walked slowly around the building, the only sound the quiet thud of his cane and the soft sound of his shoes on the laminate flooring. It was a comforting sound, one that reminded him of his many years as a director of his own studio, reminded him of a time when things were good for him, when he was king of his own little world.

He was the king again, though he hardly felt like it. He had been pursuing Regina, but she had gone into hiding. Her small attempts at disrupting the filming had not gone unnoticed. They had not gone unnoticed by Belle either. He was sure of that. Every time there was some small thing that happened, the camera that had a mysterious crack in it, the gels that had gone missing, her big blue eyes turned on him and narrowed slightly. He knew she was waiting for a response, waiting for some indication that he had tracked down Regina and would turn her into the cops.

She still wanted that. He knew that. She wanted him to go through some sort of official channel, report her and let them find her and make her pay. But he knew there would be no proof. Regina was wily, focused when she wanted something. She was her mother's daughter through and through and he shuddered at the thought of having to deal with her again.

It wasn't that he couldn't beat her. He knew he could. He had defeated her at every turn. Even by leaving the field entirely he had beaten her. She was a competitive sort and losing that sense of competition, that driving force behind everything she did, had made it more difficult for her to get ahead. His leaving had undermined her in a way she never could have anticipated.

"Mr. Gold." The soft words startled him out of his reverie and his head shot up, squinting into the half darkness around him.

"Ah, Mr. Nolan. What can I do for you?" The younger man stepped out of the shadows.

"I was…um…just doing the rounds before everyone arrived."

Gold arched one eyebrow, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "Once a cameraman, always a cameraman?"

"Something like that." David shrugged. "I guess I just always liked this part of the day."

"Odd that you and I should have that in common." He never expected to find common ground with anyone in the studio, frankly, and especially not with the studio's _Prince Charming_. He was anything but, after all. He certainly wasn't one to rescue fair maidens. In fact, it seemed he chased them off with rather startling ease.

"Yes, well…" David cleared his throat.

"You're really here to talk to me," Gold finished for him.

David turned to him then and his blue eyes were slightly wider than they'd been a moment before. "How did you know that?"

"I'm perceptive, Mr. Nolan." He waved a hand at him. "Out with it then."

It was obvious the man didn't quite know where to start and Gold wasn't even sure _what_ it was he wanted to talk to him about. The obvious was his role in the movie. Nolan still hadn't settle completely into it. He was good, verging on excellent, but it had been a long time since he had been in front of the camera instead of behind it. And Gold knew that there were times he was uncomfortable. The last time he had been in front of the camera he hadn't really been required to _act_ after all.

"It's about Belle…"

"She's off limits."

"I don't mean like _that_." David looked somewhat horrified and Gold couldn't help the small smirk that crossed his face.

"Oh never fear, dearie. I didn't think you'd meant that." He gave the man a sidelong look. "Besides, I think she's done with the overly tall not quite so bright sorts."

"Hey," David responded with.

"My apologies," Gold murmured.

"Look I'm not interested in her. In case you've forgotten, I'm a married man."

"Right, of course." As if that had ever stopped someone from going after what they wanted before. His wife had cheated on him and ultimately left him for someone else. They hadn't exactly had a happy relationship from the get go, but still. If it could happen to him, it could happen to anyone. He'd seen deliriously happy couples end their marriages just a handful of months after the big day.

"Look, it's just…well…you guys went on that date and all."

"Are we really going to do this?" Gold interrupted him with.

"Yes," David shot back and it might have been the first time he'd seen the man really show a backbone.

"You're not her father."

"I'm well aware of that," David said with a small smile. "We're just worried, is all."

"We?"

"Well, Ruby and I. Leroy. Ariel..."

"Ah yes. It seems the entire studio is aware of our date." He shook his head at that.

"Well, when you…"

"Yes I know. We showed up together, dressed up. It was obvious." He waved a hand in the air at the last. "I'm not so fond of people discussing my love life."

"Do you love her then?"

He felt the air suck out of him for a moment. How could he respond to that? _I don't know her well enough, how could I possibly love her, stay out of my damned life_. He wanted to tell the man to stuff it, walk away. It was his usual way of reacting to things he found somewhat unpleasant. Say something snarky that pushes the person away and then get out of there. “Yes,” he finally said, the word sounding loud to him in the quiet of the room.

He turned and walked away, leaning heavily on his cane as he did so. It felt like he had aged a thousand years. Yes, he loved her. No, he couldn’t keep her. They all left him eventually. One way or another. Milah abandoned him for another man. His son… _God, his son_ …Belle didn’t even know about him. No one did. Milah had taken off with him when he was just a boy. He had fought long and hard to get some sort of custody but had finally admitted defeat. It was better for the boy if he wasn’t being torn apart by constant court battles. He let her win. He still damned himself for that. _He let her win_ and his son was as gone from his life as his wife was. And then there was Cora…well…that one didn’t warrant any thinking about. The memories might be over ten years old, but they stung today nearly as much as they did then. Not because he cared for her, but because it had been his downfall.

And Belle? She’d find a reason to leave him too. If only he could manage to keep away from her. He was fairly certain he couldn’t and he knew _that_ would cause a whole new downfall of epic proportions.

* * *

They were halfway through filming the second scene of the day when it happened. The lights flickered, Belle faltered in the words she was speaking, and Gold called cut. A moment later the entire studio was plunged into darkness.

“Don’t move!” Gold’s voice carried easily above the sudden outbreak of shouting and everyone immediately quieted down. “Flashlight?”

“It seems we don’t have any,” came Nolan’s rather embarrassed voice.

“We have no flashlights?”

“Well, not here at least,” Nolan conceded. “I’m not really sure where we keep them.” Belle could almost feel the frustration coming from him, could well imagine him running his fingers through his hair as he did when annoyed.

“Here,” she managed to say and pulled her cell phone out. The light was weak but it allowed her to make her way over to Gold. She handed off her cell phone to him and their fingers brushed together briefly. It wasn’t much contact, just a tiny touching of their hands, but still she felt the electricity hit her hard.

Their eyes met and his lips quirked in a small half smile. “Thank you, Miss French.”

“You're welcome.” Her voice was a little softer, a little huskier than it had been a moment before.

“I’ll return this to you after I find the flashlights?”

She nodded, unable to form words for the moment

"Mr. Nolan, if you'll join me?" Belle knew it wasn't exactly an invitation, and was amused to see the other man rush to his side. Even Gold seemed faintly amused at it, a smirk forming on his face for just a moment.

He handed off the phone to Nolan and started to turn away to follow the other man, but paused. There wasn’t much she could see of him in the half light from the phone, but still she noticed the intensity in his expression. They had been at odds since their last conversation, things cooled slightly yet still with an indelible attraction that she found hard to deny.

She certainly found it hard to deny _now_ , when he leaned close and his lips came near her ears. “Twenty minutes, Miss French. Meet me in my office.”

She nodded. He was the boss after all, though she knew she _wanted_ to meet him there. For whatever reason. Even if he only returned her phone to her, even if he wanted to discuss her acting choices, even if it were nothing more than _thank you very much and have a nice night_. She wanted to go.

“Of course,” she responded with. And then he disappeared into the darkness, only the phone lighting his way allowing her to see him at all as he walked off.

* * *

 Belle had spent the twenty minutes between Gold's walking off and going to his office helping to pass out the handful of flashlights and making the call to the electrical company to find out what was going on. There were no outages in the area and it seemed like they were the only ones off the grid. She suspected that was the case and even worse, she had a feeling it was that Regina woman again.

Nothing had been said about her since that fateful day in Gold's office, but she had seen the look on his face after each mishap. His eyes would narrow, a muscle would twitch in his cheek and he would turn and walk out, each step heavy and faltering.

She didn't know if he was even doing anything about it. So far most of the mishaps had been relatively minor. But this one? It actually had been dangerous for cast and crew and disrupted filming for a significant period of time. The cast had been sent home and only a bare bones crew was retained in case the power came back up and the computerized equipment had to be checked for issues. Power surges could be dangerous to such equipment, causing components to melt and fuse.

She patted Leroy on the shoulder as she stepped by and he nodded at her. He'd keep things in line while Gold was occupied with…well…whatever Gold was occupied with.

"Go get him, sister," Leroy murmured and Belle just smiled at him. He was perceptive, perhaps even more so now that he seemed to have found some sort of _something_ with new camerawoman Astrid. Oh sure, Leroy thought he was being sneaky about it, but Belle had seen the looks the two had exchanged. There was something there and she felt happy for the gruff older man. He deserved a bit of love in his life.

When she arrived at Gold's door, she took a deep breath and knocked softly. He opened the door almost instantly and she was surprised to find him stripped down to his shirt with his tie missing. He looked relaxed and while he seemed to eye her somewhat warily as he waved her into the room, she felt like he was more himself than he had been since their argument.

Looking around the room, she let out a small gasp. "Is all of this for me?" The desk had been cleared and what she realized was a white towel place across it. Candles decorated each side, giving the darkened room a sort of hazy, romantic feel.

“Well, it’s not much…”

“But it _is_.” They had barely spoken. She wasn’t even sure if he still wanted to pursue anything with him. “Candles…and is that dinner?”

He gave a small self-deprecating smile. “Well, it’s pizza. Cold pizza, actually.”

She laughed. “I don’t care if we have to pick off _mold_. I’m famished.”

“Then please, have a seat.” He stepped toward the desk and pulled out the chair with the hand not holding his cane, waving her toward the seat.

“My my such a gentleman,” she murmured as she took her seat on the opposite side of his desk. She noticed he had pulled her chair up close to his, a little like they used to sit, back when they were first working on the script and cast listing.

He sat next to her and produced the bottle of wine he had hidden. Wine. Pizza. She couldn’t even figure out where this was coming from exactly, but she was willing to play along. Pouring the wine into a red plastic cup, all she was sure he could find in the rather low-class break room in their studio, he handed it to her. They briefly touched their glasses together and Belle allowed herself a small laugh.

For a moment, there was complete silence as they sipped their wine and snagged pieces of cold pizza. Then finally he spoke. “Ruairidh.”

“Pardon me?” Belle cocked her head slightly to the side. The way he said it sent a slight shiver up her spine, the rolled “r,” the way his tongue flipped over the last bit. _Roo-ree_. He said it again and Belle shook her head. “Is that some Scottish toast?”

“My name.” His voice was quiet as he spoke.

“Your name.” She smiled. _Finally_.

“Yes. I think you can see why I don’t tell it to anyone.” Another self-deprecating laugh. “It’s even worse if you write it out.” He pulled a pen out of his desk and quickly jotted the word down.

“Wow. That doesn’t even look like the spoken version.”

He gave a short laugh. “Unpronounceable and Scottish, that’s what my mother was looking for apparently.”

“To counteract your last name?” It seemed obvious. If she were proud of her Scottish heritage she would well imagine her wanting to retain _something_ of that with her child.

“It’s the only thing she left me.” The words were whispered.

“You didn’t know your mother?” She had barely known hers, truth be told, and the older she got the more the memories faded.

“She died soon after I was born, the rigor of childbirth too much for her apparently.” His voice was dark when he spoke and she saw something there, a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. He took a deep breath, went on. “I barely knew my father, either. He left me with my aunts when I was only eight.”

“My mother died when I was five,” she responded in sympathy. Though she had her father growing up she had been all too aware that there was no female in her life that she could turn to. Her father had been an only child. There were no aunts. No cousins. She had been adrift in a world of men and while she never felt completely bereft, there had been many a night when she had cried herself to sleep for lack of a woman to talk to about things going on in her life.

He gave her a soft smile. “It seems we have something in common after all.”

“I suspect we have more in common than you might think.”

He nodded. “I suppose that could be the case.”

She reached out a hand and touched his, surprised when he turned his hand over and entwined their fingers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About my parents?” He sounded surprised at the suggestion.

“No. Though if you want to…”

“I don’t,” he answered quickly.

“Right.” They fell into silence for a moment and Belle inwardly cringed. Could nothing be easy between them? Their relationship, such as it was, had started with rudeness and attitude and now seemed to be left with awkward pauses and half-started conversations.

“You want to know about Regina,” he interrupted her thoughts with.

“Yes, but I know…”

“No, I’ll talk about her. At least a little,” he added with a small smirk. “Regina has always been more ambitious than she is intelligent. She’s the type of person who addresses things with brute force instead of finesse.”

“And she’s a director?” There was a bit of surprise in her voice, though really she knew there were directors out there like that. Albert King had been a little like that, certainly no finesse and seemingly little understanding of the sensitivities of those he hired.

“She’d like to think she is. So far she hasn’t been as successful as she’d like. I’ve lost track of her career,” he admitted. “After I closed my studio, she disappeared and I haven’t heard a thing out of her since then.”

“She wanted your studio.” It was more a statement than a question. The way he spoke of her was that of rivals, clearly rivals who would do anything to take each other down. And she didn’t think Gold was innocent in any of this.

He looked impressed as he leaned back a bit. “How did you know that?”

The worried crease between his eyes made her laugh a little. “Just a good guess, apparently. Did you close your studio down because of _her_?”

His eyes shifted to the side. “Not exactly.”

“You _did_.” She didn’t know why the thought horrified her. He left the whole business behind because…some woman wanted to take it over.

“No,” was all he said and she could see him go tight-lipped again, could see the way his eyes shuttered suddenly. She had pushed too far too fast. He was willing to come only so far and she couldn’t drag him further along. She didn’t _want_ to drag him along, she realized. She wanted him to come willingly, to tell her about his life because he wanted to, because he wanted to let her inside. At least a little.

“I see.”

He let out a sigh. “I know you don’t.”

“No, I don’t. What is it about this woman? What hold does she have over you?” He gave no response and she shook her head. “You have to let me in sometime.”

When he looked at her, his eyes were as open and honest as she’d seen them. “I’m trying.”

She gave him a small smile. “I know you are. That’s all I ask. Sometime you’ll tell me all?”

He nodded and she scooted closer, reaching out to wrap her arms around him. He froze for a moment before responding in kind and holding her close. “So you’ll give me another chance?”

She pulled back from him, reached up and framed his face with her hands. “Never doubt my power of forgiveness for a minute.” That finally got a smile, a _real_ smile, from him.

They ate the rest of their meal in a somewhat more comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated by their comments on the production, on the cast. She purposely avoided bringing up the subject of Regina and the disasters that had been happening.

When she left later that evening, she felt better about where things were than she had before. He had kissed her softly, a promise of more to come she was sure, and had allowed her to slip out after agreeing to another date at the end of the week.

Perhaps _this_ date would not end with disaster.


	12. Chapter 12

His office had been ransacked. Ransacked. Belle had arrived some hours before filming was set to begin to find Gold… _Ruairidh_ , she reminded herself…standing in the middle of a place that looked like a tornado had gone through. His desk was overturned, papers scattered everywhere. The script was torn into pieces. She could see it strewn over the floor of the office, some pages torn in half, others whole but crumpled.

The teacups were smashed, the pot in several places on the ground, the tea dripping from it soaking into the rug. The books from the shelves were on the ground, some clearly stepped on. Whoever did it had a personal investment. Almost _nothing_ was untouched.

Gold turned to her as she entered the room and for a moment there was a haunted look in his eyes.

“What happened here?” She knew the answer, well, sort of. She knew that _someone_ had done this. For a moment she wondered if it were Gold himself. She had heard rumor of his temper though so far his anger had run cold, not hot, and it was hard to imagine him taking out his rage on his own office.

“It’s not obvious?” He smirked, but his face looked tight, any humor that the quirk of his lips seemed to indicate was there not quite reaching his eyes. He was frustrated, angry. She could see it lurking just beneath the surface. The way his shoulders looked tense, the eyebrows drawn low, the twitch of the muscles in his cheek as he clenched and unclenched his teeth.

“You didn’t do this.” She tried to frame the words as a statement, though the slight tipping up of her voice at the end made it clear she wasn’t certain.

“Of course not,” he answered and there wasn’t even a bit of annoyance there.

“Regina,” she surmised.

“I have no doubt of that.” His eyes left her then to look back across the disaster at their feet.

“Is there anything missing?” It was the obvious answer, though how to tell _what_ was missing in an office that looked like this might be more difficult than she could imagine.

He turned to look back at her and she saw the burst of rage behind his eyes. Something was missing. Something precious. Something important. He remained quiet for a moment longer before raising a hand and waving her along with him. “Be careful,” he warned as she tried to pick her way through the debris. “There’s glass.”

“I know.” The smile she gave him in that moment was genuine. Even in the midst of what had to be great stress, he still found a way to show he cared.

She made it to him and he reached out, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her in closer. “The safe…” He couldn’t seem to get any other words out but Belle looked down and realized what he was talking about.

“She knew the code?”

“Or figured it out.” His voice sounded almost pained.

“But how?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t a bloody clue.” And that was perhaps the worst part of all of this. He seemed floored by it all. The little issues she had caused, even the flood and the power outage. All of those were easy to accomplish. But breaking into a safe? Not quite so easy.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what was in it.” She could see, even from far above it, that the content had been emptied. She had never asked what he kept in it. The thought never crossed her mind.

“Everything we’ve filmed to date.”

Her eyes widened. “Everything?” He nodded and she found herself wrapping her arm around him, holding him closer, tighter. “We’ve lost it all?”

“If we can’t get it back…”

“Right. Maybe now’s the time to…”

“No. I’ll handle this.”

She shook her head. “The same way you’ve handled it so far?” He stayed silent at her words, staring at the safe, as if the metal box had been at fault and not Regina. When another minute went by with no response, she sighed. “So now what do we do?”

“We need to tell everyone.” Simple words for a not so simple situation. She agreed though. Others deserved to know what exactly was going on. The production had been simply _plagued_ with issues, but this latest might spell disaster for their little movie. They could film it again, but could they capture the magic of those first scenes? Belle wasn’t sure they could. And she wasn’t sure everyone would be willing to redo it anyway.

They left his office together, arms linked, carefully walking over the debris on the ground and then making their way down the hallway in near silence. It felt a bit like they were walking out to face a death squad. But she wanted to be there for him. He was the director. She was the star. But there was more than just that and pretty much the entire studio had it figured out.

When they stepped into the main part of the studio, more people had arrived and while Belle was sure not everyone was there, it was starting to look pretty likely.

“What’s going on?” David Nolan asked, approaching them. “The lock looked like it was jimmied…”

“It was,” Gold confirmed and Belle let go of him so he could step into the middle of things. “Everyone, I need your attention for a moment.” His voice was quiet in the room but it commanded the immediate attention of everyone in the vicinity. Belle watched Ruby step closer, her eyebrows knit with confusion. For a moment her eyes met Belle's and Belle bit her lip, looked away. Ariel was there too. Leroy. Most of the cast and crew were there and for that Belle was thankful.

This only needed to be said once.

Whatever it was he intended to say to them all. Even she wasn’t sure what his thoughts on all of this were exactly. He had been tight-lipped and his eyes had given little away.

“Thank you,” he murmured, holding up a hand and getting the immediate quiet the gesture indicated he wanted. “As some of you might have noticed, we were broken into last night.”

“Couldn’t find anything taken,” Leroy grumbled.

Gold turned his eyes on him for a moment. “Thank you for attempting to take inventory.” And for once she was sure Gold was actually sincere. “Something _was_ taken and it may ultimately…”

“Spell the end of your little production?” The words came from the doorframe, spoken by a dark-haired woman Belle had never seen before. Once all eyes were on her, she strode into the room. Confident. Cool. Her hair was perfectly coifed, her pantsuit perfectly pressed. Everything seemed _perfect_ about her. Except the cold look in her eyes, the feral smile, and the way her eyes fell on Gold as if she were sizing up her prey and finding him a rather easy mark.

Belle felt her hackles go up as she watched the woman insinuate herself into the crowd.

“Regina,” she heard Gold murmur and was not entirely surprised to see the feral grin on his face matching the dark-haired woman’s.

“Oh do go on with your little announcement,” she said with a wave of one manicured hand. “I wouldn’t want to interfere.”

“It seems you’ve already done that,” Gold said, voice as smooth as dark silk.

“Oh you mean that little power outage?” Her voice took on a pout with those words. Innocent was hardly the word to describe her, though she was trying hard for that look. She was a viper, intent on her prey. She’d sink her fangs in if Gold gave her a chance.

“And the flood,” Belle suddenly found herself saying, stepping forward. Gold wasn’t going to hold her back, wasn’t going to keep her from this woman who seemed so intent on closing down their production that she would go to any and all lengths to do it.

“My, my, and who is this little cat?” Regina took her eyes off Gold and finally focused on Belle. “Oh yes…the little star of this ‘production.’ What’s your name again, girl? Margie? Verna?...”

“Belle,” she said and faced her down. “You don’t scare me.”

Regina’s eyebrows shot up for a moment, a look she couldn’t hide. “Brave one, are you?”

“Do the brave thing and bravery always follows,” Belle responded with. It was one of the only things left to her of her mother. She remembered little else about the woman, but that was etched into her mind.

“Is that so?”

Gold stepped out in front of her. “What do you want, Regina?”

“Your production, of course.”

“We’ve been through this one before or have you forgotten our meeting?” Belle watched his hands clench on the cane that was held tightly in his hands. He was not as unaffected by all of this as he was trying to appear. She could see the white knuckles, could see the way his teeth clenched while speaking to her.

Belle leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Oh yes, he didn’t tell you about our meeting?” Regina smiled at her. “Poor Verna…sorry… _Belle_ …he doesn’t keep you in the loop does he?”

“I’m sure he didn’t feel he needed to mention some _bully_ attempting to…”

“Belle.” Gold’s voice sounded somewhat frantic as he lightly grasped her arm and pulled her back a bit. She turned to look up at him and smiled.

“I know.” She couldn’t help herself sometimes. She stood up to bullies. She always had. And she suspected this _Regina_ person was one of the worst bullies of them all.

“Oh how _sweet_. Bit of a gold digger?”

“Hardly,” Belle answered with before allowing Gold to step in front of her once more.

“We’re through.” His voice was tight, closed down.

“Are we? I still want this script,” she pointed out as she stepped closer to him. “I’m willing to pay good money for it. And I really think it’s in your best interest to take me up on this offer. Otherwise you’re stuck doing this production with…well…” She waved a hand around the room. “ _This_.”

“Hey!” Ruby suddenly shouted and Belle could see her storming to the front of the crowd. She looked livid and Belle understood, felt the same anger. “We may have been nothing more than porn stars before Mr. Gold got to us, but we are working _hard_.”

“Hard work can’t help you overcome your previous career, Miss Lucas. You and your _ilk_ are trashing this good script.” The last was said on a snarl.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” David Nolan said. “We're good at what we do.”

“Yeah!” Belle heard Leroy’s voice call out. He was always gruff, always forthright. Nothing seemed to faze the stout man. He pushed himself to the front and Belle was amazed to see Astrid standing right behind him as he did so. She was timid, easily cowed, but it seemed the gruff man gave her strength. “I think it’s time we took out the trash.”

“Do you now?” Regina seemed faintly amused at the older man’s actions. She locked eyes for a moment with Astrid and the other woman let out a little squeak and stepped back. “You have nothing to stand on. You know that, right?”

“We have plenty to stand on,” Ruby interjected.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Regina turned back to Gold then, her lips stretched into what could only be described as a grotesque smile. “You haven’t told them, have you?”

“Belle knows,” he said quietly.

“Of course she does.”

“What’s going on?” David said as he took a couple steps toward them.

Gold didn’t take his eyes off Regina as he spoke and Belle could see the way he shuddered slightly at the words. “It seems that Regina has taken all of our rolls of film.”

“ _Everything_?” Leroy exploded with.

“Every last one of them," Regina said with an almost too-bright smile. "Seems you’re back to square one.” She was proud of herself for this moment, Belle could see that much. But she could also see something lurking beneath the surface, something that told her she wasn’t quite as secure in her plans as she thought she was. Oh, she had the upper hand for the moment. But she hadn’t yet bested Gold. And something told Belle that Gold wasn’t the type to let things go easily.

The crowd erupted into angry shouts and words that would have burned her ears if she hadn’t heard much worse in her days in the studio. Regina smirked. Gold looked annoyed. And Belle let it go on for a minute or two before she stepped forward and spoke into the tumult. “Then we’ll re-film if we have to.” And her voice was firm. She meant it.

“Do you think that will do you any good?” Regina asked and all eyes were on her again. “This production is a _joke_.” And here she glanced back at Gold. “Did you think anyone would take you seriously, casting a punch of porn stars in your movie? I thought I knew you better than that, Gold. But it seems you’ve gone off the deep end in your years away.”

“He has not,” Ruby said. “He’s given us a chance. You’d just write us off as nothing. Toss us out onto the streets.”

“Gold gave us a chance,” David added. “No one gives us a chance.”

“Even me,” Leroy added and she could see the blush form as Astrid reached out and hugged him briefly.

“And me.” Belle turned to see Ruby’s grandmother step forward. She was a tough old bird, more used to waitressing at a dive joint than being on camera but Gold had cast her in the role of the mother, an overly protective and suspicious sort. It barely required any acting on the woman’s part at all, but all had agreed she was perfect for the role.

“You?” Regina’s sculpted eyebrows rose.

“I wasn’t in porn, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Belle was relieved to see the rest of the group let out a bit of laughter at her comment.

“You think this is funny?” Regina asked.

“No one thinks this is funny, dearie,” Gold finally said and his soft voice cut through the laughter. “Least of all _me_. You _stole_ from me. You stole from this studio. And mark my words. I _will_ get back what is owed me. And you won’t like the price you have to pay.”

Regina simply leaned forward, glanced around the room for a moment before her eyes settled on Gold. “We shall see.”

She started to leave but Gold stepped forward, “Dearie?” She turned to look back at him and Belle could tell she had planned her dramatic exit and he had foiled it. “This movie _will_ go on. With or without those recordings you took, this _will_ happen.” He took another step toward her. Then another. Belle hung back. This was his moment. “And if the fall-out of all of this ends up with your head on a stake, then _so be it_.”

Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she turned away once more. And then she was gone, disappearing out of the studio with a clicking of heels and the silent thud of the door as it shut behind her.

They all knew who was behind it now.

They all knew what was at stake, what had been taken, what disaster had befallen them.

They _knew_.

They were all silent. Belle felt the weight of it come down hard on them. For a moment no one moved, no one said a word. They all just watched the door, waiting. Wondering if she would come back. Wondering what would come next.

And then finally…one person started clapping. Belle wasn’t sure who started it, which one of the people surrounding them was the first. But it started a cascade. First one clap, sounding loud in the silent room, then another, and finally a tumult.

Belle stepped forward and put her hand on Gold’s tense shoulder. His eyes met hers for a moment and she could see the shock written there. He had faced down the dragon and he had won. Not only against her, but he had won the respect of the entire studio.

“We’re behind you, Gold,” David Nolan said as the applause died own.

“To the end,” Ruby added.

Gold looked around at them all and for a moment she thought he might speak. But then he nodded once, quickly, and walked off. His head was bowed low, but as he walked away from her Belle could see just the tiniest of smiles on his face.

* * *

They had stood up for him.

He hadn't seen that one coming.

When Gold arrived at his office, shutting the door between himself and the noise of the cast and crew, he'd sunk into his seat, one of the only things left standing in his office. The place still needed to be cleaned, but that could wait. That _should_ wait. If he was going to do this right, then he should call the police and report Regina. Not that he wanted them to handle it. But having a bit of backup in case everything went to hell was never a bad idea.

And he had to push forward. Throwing in the towel wasn't an option. Not anymore. Even if all of this wasn't worth it in the end, he _owed_ it to these people to do everything in his power to make their wishes come true.

To make sure their faith him was not unfounded.

He had never felt so much pressure in his professional life. Strange, that. It felt like everything was on the line now. They had _faith_ in him. They supported him. They had stood up to _Regina_ for him. They didn't know who she was exactly, but they all knew she was a threat and a rather grave one at that.

The quiet knock that came a moment later didn't surprise him. He had expected Belle to follow him eventually. He was actually surprised she didn't come right with him, but she was amazingly in tune with him, almost frighteningly so at times, and she must have seen his need for space in that moment.

It didn't last long, however.

"Come in." His voice was soft as he spoke and door opened a moment later to Belle's concerned face.

"Are you alright?"

He gave her a half-smile. "Yes, yes I'm fine. Come in, dear." He waved a hand at her. And she did as he asked, stepping back inside the half-destroyed room and waiting for his next words. "Come, sit down please. I have a quick phone call to make."

He watched her as he picked up the phone and quickly put in a police report. Her eyebrows rose and he saw her smile in what could only be described as satisfaction.

“You’re going to let them handle it?” she asked as he set the phone down.

“Hardly,” he answered with a snort of laughter.

“So then?”

“Someone has to threaten her besides me. If she thinks the authorities are onto her, she’ll get nervous and make mistakes.”

Belle nodded. “And if they happen to get the film back in the process…”

“Exactly.”

For a moment they fell into silence. “They were proud of you, you know?” Belle finally managed to say.

Gold shook his head. “They shouldn’t be.” In fact, they should have all walked away. It was their chance after all. Defending him? Defending their production? It was far more than he ever could have imagined. “I owe them now.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that how you see it?”

“It is. They did something for me. I do something for them. It’s the way the world works.”

She made a tisking noise. “Such a cynical world view.”

“It’s always worked for me,” he said with a shrug.

Belle leaned forward and put her hand over his. “Sometimes you have to let that go.”

He moved forward as well at that moment and captured her lips with his, just a soft, sweet kiss. “Thank you.” The words were pulled out of him but he realized he meant them. He meant a _lot_ when it came to Belle. She pushed past his defenses somehow and he _allowed_ it. It shook him to his core far more than he really wanted to admit.

Belle cupped his face and smiled before standing. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“There’s plenty,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.

“Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow,” she confirmed.

She slipped out the door then and he felt like the air was sucked right out of the room. There was a lot to do. A lot of plans to make. She had no idea what they were going to do for this second date and he intended this one to be special, perhaps more so than the first. He wasn’t the biggest romantic. Well, to be fair, he generally wasn’t romantic at _all_. And he was well out of practice for even trying.

But Belle?

She brought it out in him.

He just hoped this small interlude in the midst of all the problems that had been crashing down on them would be worth it. For both of them.


	13. Chapter 13

“So where are we going?” Belle asked almost as soon as she hopped in the car. He had gotten out to open her door and she had waved him back quickly. There was no need for him to do such things when she knew his leg often pained him.

She still hadn’t asked about it.

But she wasn’t sure he would be comfortable with that. They _had_ gotten much more comfortable with each other, but there were still subjects she was loath to approach.

What happened to his leg?

Who exactly was Regina?

What the hell was going on with the disasters at the studio?

He was handling it. He had said that over and over again. He had at least called the police, even if he seemed to expect that they wouldn’t be able to track her down. That much was obvious. _Hardly_. No, he definitely wasn’t expecting them to do much. Something about him told her that not only did he not put much faith in them, but he also simply did not trust them.

Gold turned to look at her and smiled. “Well, I did say it was a surprise.”

“You did. But now seems to be a good time…”

“I’m sure it does,” he cut her off with. His smile was mysterious and as he waved a hand at Dove to drive off, she leaned back in the seat, settled in for the drive.

“So you won’t tell me anything at all?”

He leaned over slightly, wrapped an arm around her and drew her closer to him. His breath tickled the hair at the nape of her neck. “Not a thing.”

She smiled as she kissed him and for a moment at least, the world felt right. She knew it couldn't last though. It never did. Not for her and, she suspected, not for Gold.

Pulling back she settled against the seat and enjoyed the rest of the ride in a sort of companionable silence. There was anticipation, certainly. She wasn't nervous though. Not like the last time. They had been settling into whatever this was a bit better since their falling out and while things were still tentative, she hoped that this date would take them closer to whatever sort of relationship it was they wanted.

She still wasn't sure what _he_ wanted. He had opened up a bit, told her some things about himself, but she was sure there was still so much to him, layers upon layers to discover.

When the car finally stopped, Belle peered out the window and realized they had pulled up in front of a very large house. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked back toward Gold.

"My house, yes," he said quietly and she could see the hesitation there.

She smiled at him. "You're inviting me into your inner sanctum?" The surprise was evident in her voice. He wasn't one to do such a thing. His inviting her into his office and making space for her there was all she could have imagined his being able to give. This was a huge step.

One she was suddenly sure she was ready to take.

"I am," he answered. "Unless you're not comfortable…" The hand that waved in the air was nonchalant but the look in his dark eyes told her he was feeling anything but relaxed about it.

"Of course." Reaching over, she briefly squeezed his hand. "I'm looking forward to seeing what other surprises you have planned." She raised one eyebrow and could see the way he convulsively swallowed before rapping on the top of the car to get Dove's attention.

The large man hopped out of the car with much more grace than Belle could have imagined and her door was opened before she had a chance to say much more. She let him help her out of the car while Gold got out on the opposite side and came around to offer her an arm. "You're sure you're fine with this?"

In response, she linked her arm with his and nodded. "Lead the way."

They entered the front door of the house and he turned the light on as soon as they stepped in. She blinked a couple times, let her eyes adjust, before looking around. His home was lovely, if a bit crowded. The furniture was antique, beautiful carved woodwork and done in shades of red and gold. That somehow suited him. The many old knick-knacks, the myriad of clocks, the antique mirrors, all of _that_ surprised her. She had expected his place to be somewhat barren.

Instead it felt like a museum.

Definitely not what she had expected.

It took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her. "Pardon?"

"Not what you expected is it?"

She gave a small laugh. "Do you read minds?"

He leaned closer and the smirk on his face made a small shiver go down her back. "Just yours, Miss French."

"Is it back to that then? _Miss French_. Well, _Mr. Gold_ …why don't you take my coat and show me around this museum you call a home?"

"As my lady commands," he said on a laugh as he did as she asked, helping her to remove her coat and hanging it above the umbrella holder in the hallway before escorting her further into the house.

His house was fascinating, perhaps as much as the man himself. As he led her around the main floor, pointing out where the various antiques came from, telling her how he had acquired them, he seemed relaxed, open. More so than she had seen him before. It was a new side to him, one that she truly enjoyed seeing.

They finished the tour of the downstairs in the living room, a comfortable enough room with two large couches and a recliner that had obviously been well-loved. "My chair," he murmured and managed to sound almost embarrassed. She made a circuit of the room and finally stopped in front of the fireplace, picking up one of the pictures. It featured a clearly younger Gold and a small boy, maybe four years old at his side. Both were squinting into the sun and Gold wore a smile that she had rarely seen of him. He looked relaxed and happy.

Turning to him, she showed him what she held. He grimaced then his eyes shuttered and his face closed down. After a moment, he took a deep breath. "Beathan. My son." The words were whispered and even in those two small words Belle could hear the pain.

"You have a son."

"I do. Yes." His hand passed over his eyes for a moment.

"Where is he?" There was no evidence in anything she had seen of the house that a child lived there. Looking at the picture again she thought it might have been taken anywhere between five and fifteen years ago. Perhaps the boy was grown and out of the house.

"With his mother." The words were tight.

"And she's…"

"Not the kind of person you ever want to meet. If you think Regina is bad…"

“Really?” She watched a strange look pass across his face and found herself grimacing alongside him. “Tell me about your son?”

He shot her a look but stayed silent. There was a war going on there, somewhere inside him.

“Oh come now, aren’t we supposed to be getting to know each other?” She tried for a bit of levity, hoping to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Perhaps,” he murmured. “Or perhaps you just want to learn my weaknesses.” He waved a finger under her nose and she shook her head.

“You know that’s not it at all.” Her voice was full of light-hearted admonishment.

“Come,” he said, and reached out, took her hand and pulled her along with him. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“Relating to your son?”

He turned toward her as they neared the stairs to the second floor. “Sometime I’ll tell you that story. But not just yet.”

She arched an eyebrow at his obvious insistence that she get up the stairs as quickly as possible and let out a small squeak when she felt his cane smack her lightly on one of her legs. “Really? You seem in an awful rush to get upstairs. Is there any reason why?” And she suddenly wondered if this was where the date would end up, in bed for most of the night. She couldn’t say she’d find that entirely objectionable, even if she was famished.

He gave her a slight leer, but she watched it melt into that crooked grin she was beginning to love so much. “Alas, I think we have some preludes to the main event.”

“The main…”

“I jest, Miss French.” And she shook her head, but rushed up the stairs anyway, waiting for his slower, careful steps to bring him back up to her level. “To your right,” he murmured and indicated the direction with his cane. Belle preceded him down the narrow hallway, stopping before the final door. “Yes, right there.” He stepped closer to her, and reached over to push the door open, waving Belle in ahead of him.

As soon as the lights lit up the room she found she could do little more than gape at what had been revealed. The room was large, easily the size of her whole apartment and every wall was covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. Full of books. She had never _seen_ so many books outside of a library before. She turned suddenly to find Gold standing right behind her, close, so close. She took a breath, could smell the spicy scent of his cologne.

“Mr. Gold,” she murmured, forgetting herself for a moment.

“Call me Ruairidh.” The way his voice rolled the r’s, the low purr of it. She found herself swaying toward him.

“Ruairidh,” she murmured, tripping over the syllables of his name, trying it out for herself though she was sure she mangled it.

“I like the way you say that.” His voice was a low growl and suddenly she found herself pushed into the door frame, his lips crashing down on hers. Her mouth opened almost immediately beneath his and her hands came up to grasp at the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer, pulling _her_ closer.

The kiss didn’t last long. It was hard, intense, but held promises of something more later. As he pulled back from her, she realized they were both breathing hard. “Well, then,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he said at almost the same time.

She leaned forward, kissed him quickly, nipped at his lower lip. “Don’t you dare apologize.” And then she spun away from him, leading a sort of dance around the room as she studied the books and he followed behind, watching.

Finally she heard his faintly amused voice come from close behind her. “Dinner _will_ get cold, my dear.”

Turning back to him, she offered up a sheepish grin. “Right. Dinner.” She gave one more look around the library.

“You can come back anytime.” She found she liked the serious note to his voice at those words.

“I plan to,” she murmured, giving him a sidelong look.

“Good. I’d like that.”

She followed him downstairs then to find that Dove had already laid the table, provided the candles, and left the place for them. “No one to disturb us,” Gold murmured and held out her seat.

Smiling, she watched him make his way carefully into the kitchen to bring out their meals. She would have offered to help. She contemplated jumping up and offering but _he_ had planned this and she suspected he knew exactly how far he could push himself. She didn’t want him feeling _less_ in any way. He wasn’t. But she had also seen the way he grimaced sometimes when his foot came down wrong and she could see the flash of anger in his eyes at those times.

Offering to help could only bring the mood down. And that was certainly the last thing she wanted.

Dinner was a fairly quiet affair. He brought out the first course, a lovely Caesar salad the likes of which Belle had never tasted. “Did you make this?” He nodded almost shyly at the question and, as it turned out, he made everything they were having that night.

And he was quite the cook. She didn’t expect that for some reason, but he pointed out he had lived alone for many years and it was more out of self-defense than anything. “It was learn to cook or live on ramen noodles.”

Belle laughed at that. “I lived on ramen noodles.”

“You don’t cook?” At the shake of her head, he let out a small huff of laughter. “Well, it’s a good thing that I do then, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He brought out the main course soon after…Cornish game hens brushed with garlic and rosemary, roasted red potatoes and the most amazing asparagus she'd ever had. And she wasn’t even one that really _liked_ asparagus. But somehow he had managed to cook it just right and it was utterly perfect.

Conversation flowed fairly easily, but she noticed they stayed away from the harder topics. Regina, the studio disasters, _his son_. She still couldn’t figure out how she hadn’t known all this time. It’s not that they’d known each other for an exceedingly long time, but she would have thought that a _son_ might have been an important topic of conversation. Even if it was a difficult one.

And it was. She knew. She could see the pain etched in his face, a pain that clearly wasn’t part of the photo she had picked up.

Another layer peeled back. Still so many more to go.

When they finished dinner, he stood suddenly and offered her his hand. “Come.” The word was spoken quietly and she stood and stepped away from the table.

“The dishes…” Gold simply waved a hand and almost like magic Dove appeared and with a nod toward her, carried the dishes off to the kitchen.

Gold simply smiled and escorted her into the living room. “There will be dessert momentarily,” he said as he offered her a choice of seating. She took to the couch almost immediately, settling herself into the plush service. Gold started to turn away, clearly intending on taking a nearby chair but Belle was having none of that. She reached up and grasped his hand.

“Join me?”

He gave her a strange look, quiet, assessing. “Of course.” And with a slight bow he came to sit rather precariously on the edge of the couch.

“You’re not getting nervous now are you?” She quirked one eyebrow at him.

He didn’t bother responding to that and she was thankful for Dove’s sudden interruption. “Dessert?” Gold asked as the larger man set down two bowls on the coffee table in front of them.

“My favorite part of the meal,” she admitted.

“I thought so.” He waved her toward the desserts and turned to Dove. “Your services are no longer required.”

Dove simply raised his eyebrows.

“I will take her home at the conclusion of the evening. Thank you, Dove.” The larger man bowed once and disappeared. She could hear the door shut behind him and then they were alone in the large house.

“Wherever did you find him?” She took a spoonful of the dessert. “Oh my God this is _heavenly_. Did you make this too?” At his nod she just shook her head. _Tiramisu._ He had remembered and not only that, but he had made it from scratch. She could well remember her one attempt and, well, she had ended up eating store bought cookies for dessert instead of the decadent treat she had wanted.

After a few minutes of companionable silence broken only by Belle’s little noises of delight over the dessert, Gold finally spoke. “Dove couldn’t find work anywhere.”

She finished the last bite and turned to look at him, the confusion obvious on her face.

“He’s mute. And nearly seven feet tall. No one wanted to hire him. I found him late one night sleeping on a park bench. Well, more like sleeping half on a park bench. He looked miserable and cold…”

She reached out a hand, touched his lightly. “I knew you were a good man.”

“Hardly,” he said with a snort.

“Definitely,” she reiterated. Setting down the dessert bowl, she inched closer to him. “So…we’re alone now then, are we?”

He didn’t move from his place but the look he gave her was clearly one of appreciation. “We are.”

“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” She moved a little closer, reached up a hand and stroked lightly down his tie, starting at the knot and stopping halfway down to grasp it and pull him just a little closer.

“Um…”

“Apparently I didn’t.” She tugged just a little further and was pleased when he took over and his lips finally met hers. He tasted of chocolate and a little bit of the wine they’d drunk. Not too much. Belle had never been one for getting drunk and certainly had wanted to keep her head on straight this night. She wanted to do this right. Not because she was exhausted and running on adrenaline and instinct.

So when he deepened the kiss, she was right there with him. Let him take over, let him be the aggressor for a moment. Her mouth parted and his tongue met hers, the soft slide of it across hers making her moan. At the sound, his arms tightened around her and she used what little leverage she had to start undoing his tie.

It didn’t take long for that to be tossed across the room and for her to start on the buttons of his waistcoat. Why _did_ the man have to wear so many damned clothes, anyway? This had been easier when he was dressing in nothing but a bathrobe. Now there was the jacket, quickly shoved off his arms, the waistcoat following shortly thereafter.

While she was working on that, he had moved away from her mouth, pushing her hair back from her neck and nipping at the skin he found there. When he moved up and sucked her earlobe into his mouth she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her.

Without even thinking about it, she found herself back straddling him, back as the dominant one. She _liked_ this, being above him, feeling him shudder beneath her, feeling the hardness of him straining at his pants. Knowing he was fast losing control was a heady thing.

She undid each button of his shirt, pushing it open as she did, placing open-mouthed kisses down his chest as his hands roved over her back, cupped her ass and pulled her closer to him. His hands tangled in her hair as she reached the button of his pants and slipped it open, tugging the zipper down and reaching inside to wrap her hand around him.

It was only a moment later, when she was pulling him out of his pants, exposing him, that he suddenly stiffened. She had only a half a second to react before he was shoving her away, panting, his eyes wide. "I can't…" His voice was choked with what she could only describe as panic.

Belle ended up on the other side of the couch, her breath stolen for a moment as she stared at him from across the divide that had suddenly opened up in between them. "Oh God," she whispered. "What…"

"I've seen them," he said and the words were unnaturally loud. He turned away from her as he spoke and she could see the pained look in the way his eyes squinted shut.

"Seen what?"

"You." The word came out on a choked gasp.

"Me?" It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about. Her movies. He had seen _her movies_. "Which one?"

His cheeks tinted and she watched a muscle twitch in his cheek, but he didn't respond. Instead, he wrapped his shirt tightly around himself and she was almost sure she could see a bit of a tremor in his hands.

"Which one?" she repeated. She had to know and she didn't even understand why. It shouldn't bother her. And it didn't, not really. But his reaction did. She had always been afraid that her time in the adult industry would ruin her chances of finding love, that any guy who delved into her past or who she told her past about would reject her outright. She had spoken to many women in the industry over the past couple years and found many were jaded on the subject of love, having been burned countless time by men who discovered their career.

But Gold was _in_ the industry. She didn't think it would matter. He knew who she was and what she'd done and he seemed to respect her regardless. It had been part of the draw to him. Someone she didn't have to hide from, someone she could be herself with.

"All of them," he finally said, the words quiet.

She cursed softly and pulled further away, unsure of what to say, what to do. He was quickly retreating into himself and Belle felt the distance between them increasing.

How did they come back from _this_? She wasn't really sure she knew how to, so remained quiet, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen to tell her how to react.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST!! I am so (not) sorry...


	14. Chapter 14

Belle couldn't stand the silence anymore, watching Gold stare at her from a mere few feet away. His eyes were wide and there was a strange look of half panic, half something that she couldn't identify lurking in their depths. "They're out there to watch," she said with a shrug she didn't really feel. It shouldn't be a big deal. Yet somehow it _was_ and she couldn't explain why exactly it mattered. To Gold _or_ to her.

He stayed silent and she hated the look of abject misery on his face. Reaching out to touch him lightly on the arm, she was surprised to see him flinch back a little bit. Moments ago they had been heading toward an intimacy she realized she truly did want. The first time she could ever really remember _wanting_ someone. She still felt the dampness between her thighs, dampness not caused by an overuse of lubricants like she’d needed for her job, but from her natural arousal. It had felt good.

And then this.

“I know,” he muttered.

“So I don’t understand.” He watched her, eyes still wide, didn’t respond. “Is it because you’ve seen me with other men?”

His eyebrows drew together then and she wasn’t sure if she was seeing anger, consternation, or something else entirely. He wasn’t easy to read sometimes. Emotions tended to flit across his face, disappearing almost as soon as they appeared. This was the most open she’d seen him but even now he was closing down, the mask slipping into place.

“No,” he finally managed to get out. “Well, not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“No,” he said again and Belle wanted to throw her hands up in the air in frustration.

“Then?”

“Well, I don’t exactly stack up, do I?” He met her eyes then, his lips quirking up into a self-deprecating smile.

“If you mean you’re not some overly large hairy guy who is more concerned about how his muscles look than my pleasure? Then sure, I guess you don’t stack up.” She liked his compact form, his height being closer to hers. Gaston had always been uncomfortable to even _hug_ , much less do anything else with. At nearly six and a half feet he had simply _dwarfed_ her. And he had enjoyed that, of course. Being big meant women paid attention to him. Being muscular meant he knew he looked good on screen.

And _that_ had been the most important thing to Gaston. She had not mattered. She had _never_ mattered.

Gold didn’t respond, folding his hands in his lap and staring at them. She could see one hand twitch, the fingers rubbing together.

“You really don’t think I want you,” she surmised.

“It’s more than that,” he said quickly. She waited for him to go on, though she was hardly patient about all of this. “I watched you…”

“When?” His head shot up and he cocked his head slightly to the side. “Yesterday?”

“No. Before…”

“Before you met me.”

“Yes.” And he sounded so pained she wanted to wrap him up in her arms and squeeze him until he realized what an idiot he was being.

“And since then?”

“No.”

“Then I see nothing wrong…” She moved closer to him but he moved back and away again, the movement slight, probably not one he even knew he had made. Belle heaved a sigh and watched as his eyebrows drew even lower. “Talk to me…” She reached out a hand, touched his briefly. “Please? It’s about more than just those damned videos, isn’t it?”

It took him a moment to respond and when he did, he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “It appears I owe you a story.” His voice sounded pained.

“Do you?” One eyebrow rose. There were probably plenty of stories she was owed. About Regina. About his son. About any of his life prior to _right now_.

“Oh yes.” For a moment he looked faintly amused before the look on his face darkened again. “About Regina,” he clarified. “And her mother.”

That was the bomb he had apparently been waiting to drop. She could see him almost flinch. “Her _mother_?” The words almost exploded from her and she clasped her hand over her mouth for a moment, eyes wide. “You were in a relationship with her, not Regina.” She didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but somehow it made all the more sense. Regina’s actions stemmed from one of…what? Some sort of semi-familial relationship gone wrong?

“For a time,” he admitted. “Though it’s hardly what you think.” The last was said with a sardonic twist, but there was a darkness behind it.

“She wasn’t Beathan’s mother?”

He shook his head. “I’d say ‘God no,’ but the truth is his mother wasn’t much better.”

“Really. I don’t think I need to know all of this. We’ve all had bad relationships…”

His snort of derision surprised her. “Bad does not begin to describe it. If you’re going to be involved with me, you probably need to know what you’re getting involved _with_.”

“You’re going to be honest with me?” She didn’t know why that surprised her. It’s not that she ever got a sense he _lied_ exactly, but more that he kept a lot hidden. He was like an expert poker player, always keeping his cards close to his vest and only playing them when absolutely necessary. Being let in on his secrets would surprise her.

“I don’t lie.” The words were slightly defensive.

“But you also don’t volunteer much.”

“I don’t.” For a moment he said no more. “But I owe you at least some of this…”

* * *

_He wakes and it’s sometime in the middle of the night. He doesn’t know when. The sun has long since gone down and he can see no clock in the room. He sucks in a breath. A second one. He can hear a ticking coming from across the room. There’s a clock there. The time is there somewhere._

_He tries to reach up for the light and when he shifts he realizes that it’s not his bed, not his room. The bed beneath him is hard, narrow. There are rails alongside it, he realizes, as his hand collides painfully with one. He tries to sit up, but is stopped by a voice he doesn't recognize._

_"Mr. Gold." There's someone rushing at him. The voice is an admonishment. She pushes him gently back down._

_"Where…"_

_"You're at Community Hospital," the voice starts to explain. "I'll go get the doctor." He hears the scuffle of shoes on the floor as she leaves and he curses._

_He can't remember anything. He wracks his brain, desperate. He needs to know. Was there an accident? Was he hurt? What…_

_"Well, well, I see that they finally brought you low." It's a new voice, accompanied by the click of heels and a sense of darkness._

_"They?" The word is choked out of him._

_"Well,_ you _, really. What_ were _you thinking?" She makes a tisking noise._

_He manages to pry his eyes open, just briefly, focuses on the woman at his bedside. She's not a nurse, not the doctor. "Cora," he mutters._

_"Of course darling. I'm the one who found you, after all." She sounds cool, confident. As if she knew this would come to pass._

_"Milah," he manages to get out. He remembers Milah…and that jerk Jones. He remembers Jones going after him, knife in hand. It's the last thing he remembers before waking up here. In the dark. With Cora at his side. Always Cora. He doesn't trust her but sometimes he thinks she's all he has._

_"Ah yes. Milah. She left you these."_

_He feels the papers as they hit his chest and tries to maneuver himself up to look at them. But he can't. He's so very weak. His body aches all over. "What are these?" He cannot focus._

_"Divorce papers." Her voice is so cold when she says the words. He can almost hear the sneer behind the words. She's won, then. Cora has wanted him away from Milah for a long time, has tried to get her claws into him for years now. "That's why you did this…_ thing _…to yourself."_

_"Thing?" He feels cold dread shiver down his spine._

_"You don't remember? I found you in your backyard. You had taken a sledgehammer to your own ankle."_

_He shakes his head, or tries to at least. Dizziness overcomes him. "No…" He remembers Jones. Remembers the knife. Remembers the fierce blue eyes, the glare. He remembers Milah laughing. "That was…"_

_"You, darling. All you." He tries to reach out for her but she backs away and his hand falls uselessly back to his side. She gives a small bark of laughter at his attempts at contact._

_"Me?" he croaks out._

_"You don't remember what you did to yourself?" She sounds incredulous._

_"Myself? No…" He fights against the memories. He remembers the knife. He remembers the pain as the larger man lifted him off his feet. He remembers screaming and over it all Milah's laughter and taunts to just hurry up and kill him._

_But he doesn't kill him. He leaves him, life in tatters, body shattered._

_"Jones," he starts to say, tries to sit up._

_"Oh my dear sweet boy, do you really not remember what happened?" He opens his eyes, watches her blearily. He can see her eyes though, almost too clearly. "You went into a rage, destroyed your office, shattered your own foot…"_

_"My own…" He cannot finish the words and so instead tried to focus his memories, tries to clear them. He remembers Milah laughing, Jones with the knife._

_He hears Cora shuffle closer. "I'll make sure you're safe, darling." Her words leave him cold, but he feels himself drifting away. "You can always count on me…"_

* * *

Belle reached out a hand and touched his knee, just briefly. "You did it to yourself?"

He gave her a hard look for a moment, lost in those memories, before his eyes softened and he reached out to take her hand. "Hardly," he managed to say.

"But…"

"Cora was a master manipulator. She had the hospital keep me so looped up on pain medication that I didn't know which way was up for weeks. When I finally came out of it, she was there." She watched as he shook his head. His hand trembled slightly in hers.

"How did you find out the truth?" She asked the question gently, but could still feel him tense. She refused to let go of his hand though, squeezing harder as his fingers tightened almost painfully around hers.

"It was a long time coming." The words were so quiet she could barely hear them. "Cora was not quite so careful as she thought. She thought she had me under her thumb. I thought I loved her." He stopped there and Belle realized this was the heart of the issue.

"You thought _she_ loved _you_." And there it was, his soul laid bare. She knew. It wasn't that he'd seen her videos. Well, maybe it was partially. She still wasn't sure what to think of that but she shouldn't have really been surprised considering he seemed to have an idea what her talents were before he even met her. But the real crux of the problem was Regina…and more so, her mother.

"I did," he confirmed. "I was ready to sell half the business to her. She wanted to be partners. And I _trusted_ her." She could hear the words he didn't say. _He had never trusted again_.

"And she betrayed your trust."

"You could say that."

* * *

_Cora has been acting strange for a time now. Not in any specific way he could pinpoint, but there's been something off. Her smiles are tighter. Her hugs perfunctory. He can't remember the last time they were in bed together. That side of their relationship had been dying off for some time while Cora worked on grooming her daughter to be a star director. She focuses on her daughter above else. He can’t say he doesn’t understand at least some of that, but he’s come to worry that it’s more obsession than love._

_Regina has some talent, he's admitted that much. But Cora has taken to bringing her along with her to the studio, having her daughter watch him. She's young, Regina is, impulsive, but she has a smile like a shark and the uncanny ability to step over anyone in her way._

_Like mother, like daughter._

_This day Cora is late, as is Regina. He’s about to head back to his office, gets a few paces beyond the exit to the studio when he hears them come in, hears their voice._

_They’re hushed in a conversation he’s sure no one is supposed to hear._

_“Arsenic?” Regina is saying. There’s surprise in her voice, but a sort of satisfaction there that makes the butterflies in his stomach take flight._

_“It’s odorless and tasteless.” Cora’s voice is so matter-of-fact that for a moment he’s sure she’s not talking about what he thinks she is._

_“Mother,” Regina begins and he can hear Cora move a little further away from where he stands._

_“Oh darling, just leave everything to me. In just a few short months you’ll be heading up this studio and then fame will be yours.”_

_He nearly chokes on the knowledge, backing away, leaving before they can catch him in his eavesdropping…_

* * *

He was silent after his story was told and Belle was surprised to find him dry-eyed. She was not, after all, couldn’t pretend that she was unaffected by his story.

“I sold the studio,” he finished quietly. She had to learn forward and strain to hear him.

“That’s why…”

“Yes,” he cut her off with and she could see how much all of this had affected him. His shoulders were slightly hunched, tense. His eyes looked wary, almost haunted.

She took a deep breath, reached out a hand and put it over his. She was a slight tremor there as she touched him and so she squeezed, gripped his hand harder. “And the videos?” She didn’t want to bring it back to that, but it was what started this whole confess.

He didn’t look at her, instead staring down at where her hand covered his. Finally he moved his hand, entwining their fingers as he spoke. “I don’t make it a habit to watch pornography.” A slight pause, a self-deprecating grin. “Despite what I direct, it doesn’t interest me much. But I stumbled across your videos in my years of isolation.” He took a deep breath, eyes still downcast. “They were the first thing in a very long time that made me _feel_ something.”

“And so you came here and took over the studio for me.” There it was, laid right at her feet. She had a feeling all along that that might be the case. The way he had immediately pulled her out of the adult film they were working on, his assertion that she was destined for better things. She had known, somehow, that he had come there _for her_.

“Yes.” The word was short, terse. A confirmation, nothing more.

When he didn’t elaborate, Belle squeezed his hand. “Do you feel better for having told me?”

He was silent for a time and she could almost hear the wheels turning, see him weighing the reality of his options. Then he finally turned to her and she could see just the ghost of a smile form there. It wasn’t much, but it was _something._ A step in the right direction at least. “Yes,” he finally managed to get out.

As she stood, his eyes met hers and there was surprise evident there. “Come then,” she said, holding out a hand.

He hesitated before finally putting his hand in hers and allowing her to draw him to his feet. He went willingly, but once standing, pulled back just slightly. “What…”

“Am I doing?” She gave him a mysterious smile. “I think you know.”

“Even after everything you’ve learned about me?”

She just smiled at him and went up on her toes, gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He returned the kiss and she was thankful for that much. He was coming out of his shell, allowing the shock of everything to start to fade away. She could see it in the way the tightness about his eyes was starting to disappear, the way his mouth was curved and soft. His face had looked hard, the planes of it standing out in the dim room, but he was starting to soften. When she pulled him toward the stairs, he followed easily enough.

A tug at her hand stopped her before she could begin to ascend the stairs. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." She tried to ignore the butterflies racing through her at the thought. She was sure. She knew she was sure. She _wanted_ this. And even if she was nervous, she was going to let this happen.

She only got two steps up the stairs before Gold suddenly followed her, pushing her against the wall and pausing for a moment, his mouth close, his eyes searching hers. He must have been satisfied with what he saw because he suddenly closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a fierce kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet.

This was what she wanted, she suddenly realized. For him to take the lead. One of his hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head slightly as he deepened the kiss. She moaned somewhere deep in her throat and he pressed closer, the wall the only thing holding her up because she was fairly certain without its support that she would have collapsed into a puddle at his feet.

When he broke off the kiss she gave him a dazed smile. “Upstairs?”

“Now,” he growled and she shivered. This was the Gold she…well…no, she wasn’t ready to admit that much. This was the Gold she admired, the one she wanted. The one that was in control and knew what he wanted.

She turned and raced up the stairs, Gold following a bit more slowly, using the railing and his cane to balance himself as he ascended behind her.

They were in his bedroom and he was pushing her back onto the bed before she could even think. “Lights,” she managed to get out as his lips came down on the tender skin of her neck.

“No,” he muttered against her before pressing open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck, occasionally nipping at her and soothing it with his tongue. Her hands came to tangle in his hair and she simply didn’t care if the lights were on or off anymore. It was dark in the room and perhaps that was what he needed more than anything.

There would be plenty of time for being able to see as they made love.

His shirt was still open, the buttons long since undone, and she pushed it off of him in one easy move. He tossed it across the room as soon as he was free of it. One his hands skimmed underneath her top, a flowing poncho that she had chosen for specifically this reason. It was easily discarded if the moment called for it and he found it easy to access the skin of her stomach, tracing patterns there as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. She bucked against him, wrapping her arms around him as she was hit hard by the sensations, by need, by _want_.

His hand went higher, cupping her breast over the bra and the need to feel _him_ against her was stronger than ever. She reached out and helped him pull her top over her head, leaving her clad only in her bra. Gold touched her gently, skimming his hands over each of her breasts, thumb coming out to tease at her nipple through the sheer material of the bra.

She reached around behind her, thrusting her chest forward and heard him suck in a breath. A moment later her bra was off, joining the other clothes on the ground and his lips had found her, sucking one nipple into his mouth, teeth nipping at it, tongue laving it.

“Gods,” Belle muttered as she felt herself move without her even commanding her body to do so. He knew how to use that mouth of his and the butterflies in her stomach took to wing as he moved lower, pressing kisses to her stomach

One finger hooked under the band of the skirt she was wearing and without a thought Belle reached down and undid the zipper from the side, shimmying out of it with his help. Her panties followed a moment later and then she was bare to him. She let him take the lead in that moment as his hand touched her stomach lightly and she could feel the muscles flutter beneath his touch. He moved lower and brushed the curls at the apex of her thighs that had been growing back in since she had, essentially, quit the porn industry. She had always hated that, waxing and leaving herself completely bare. It was what the industry wanted, but she never liked doing it and never liked the look.

Gold let out a soft sound as he found the hair there and she knew he was pleased. She looked different than the porn star he remembered. She was _his_ and somehow that was important to him. One of his fingers dipped lower and she spread her legs, allowing him to press one long finger inside her, allowing him to spread the moisture across her as his finger found her clit and pressed against it lightly.

She grasped his shoulders and pulled him up, away. “I need you,” she managed to get out and immediately set to undoing his pants and pushing both pants and underwear off him.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment and she knew what he was thinking. The industry did not worry about _her_ pleasure. _He_ did.

“There will be time for that,” she murmured. “For all of that. But now…I need you…inside me… _Now_.”

“As my lady commands.” He pulled himself up between her, lips crashing back down on her as he lined himself up with her. He hesitated for a moment and Belle just smiled.

“I’m on the pill. And…everything else is good” She didn’t feel like she _had_ to say it. Gold would know exactly what she meant.

And then he pushed forward and slid in and she rose up to meet him. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. He was hard and thick inside her and it felt like everything she had ever waited for in her entire life.

For a moment both were still and then he started to move inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, drew him closer. She could hear his panting in her ear, could feel him start to lose control. Reaching between them he found her clitoris again and _damn_ if that wasn’t a surprise. Sex had become nothing more than an act for her. Make some noise, pretend to get off, let the guy gets his rocks off, and then _cut_.

This time she forgot to make noise. She was so in the moment, the pleasure so all-encompassing, that she simply didn’t _think_. Everything was reduced to sensations, to sounds, and she closed her eyes and let him take her over an edge she couldn’t honestly remember anyone taking her over before.

He followed soon after, losing his control and pulling her tight against him as he finally let go.

As they both came down from the high, he rolled off her and pulled her close to him.

“Wow,” was all she managed to get out.

“Shhhh,” he responded with and so instead of talking, instead of trying to figure out where all this was going, she decided to simply let it go and curled up close at his side, her head on his chest.

As she found herself drifting off, Belle had the strangest feeling that, despite all the current upheaval hell in their lives, she had finally come home.


	15. Chapter 15

Belle wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel the morning after. She couldn’t quite ever remember feeling _this way_ about someone before. She was hesitant to name it, not sure how he felt about her, and naming it somehow made it that much more real. It meant they had to work on themselves, work on the relationship.

She hadn’t been ready for this.

Oh, she’d been ready for the sex, mind-blowing as it was. She’d been more than ready when he woke them up in the middle of the night and they did it all again, slower, less frantic. She couldn’t ever remember being this ready, couldn’t remember waking up and craving someone. She felt as if they were a couple of randy teenagers and not a middle-aged man and a woman getting awfully close to thirty. Perhaps a bit closer than she was comfortable with, really.

But ready for something more? For an emotional connection? She hadn’t been ready. But she had found it anyway. And there were a _lot_ of emotions there, ones she would face eventually. Maybe when this whole thing was over with and done. When Regina was out of their lives, hopefully behind bars for all the sabotage and thefts she was behind.

She was up before Gold that morning and after considering putting on her crumpled clothing from the night before, had dug through his dressers for an old shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. They were huge on her, but not comically so, considering Gold was not that much larger than her.

She had liked that. They fit together well the night before, their bodies seeming to be almost made for each other. Two tiny people in one large bed made for some pretty energetic love-making and she planned to explore every last thing she could now that he had overcome some of his shyness and worry about having seen her videos.

She was throwing together a simple breakfast when he stumbled down the stairs, eyes still bleary and for once not impeccably dressed. Even after everything that had gone on between them she was surprised to see him so vulnerable. His hair was sticking out on end, his eyes half closed.

She offered him a mug of coffee and he took a quick swig of it, sputtering as he did so. “What the bloody hell is this?”

“Coffee?”

His eyes finally opened completely and he just stared at her. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“Then why do you have a coffee maker?”

“Because…” And there he paused, finally stepping past her and dumping the coffee in the sink. “In case I need to entertain anyone.”

“Like young women?”

He snorted. “Hardly. Do I seem like the type to entertain young women?”

Belle just raised one eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not young?”

“Perhaps a bit _too_ young for an old dragon like me.” He pulled her in close to him, wrapped his arms around her. “What _are_ you doing with me anyway?”

“That’s for me to know,” she murmured into his chest.

He gave a small huff of laughter before pulling back. “Tea it is then. I’ll make us a proper pot.”

She settled into making their breakfast while he put on the kettle. It was strange feeling so domestic. She wasn’t one for cooking, wasn’t one for domestic mornings and whispering sweet nothings. She’d always been the practical one, the one who wasn’t into romance and flowers. But she liked when he came up behind her and kissed her on the neck. She _liked_ when he told her she looked beautiful, even if her hair was a mess and she hadn’t brushed her teeth since the day before.

She liked all of this.

Quite frankly, it scared the crap out of her at the same time she wanted more of it. She knew they had something here. Something real. Something vibrant.

And she didn't entirely know what to do with it. All she knew was she wanted more of it.

* * *

They arrived at the studio together later that morning after running by Belle's apartment for a change of clothes. She couldn't exactly say that they were acting like teenagers in love, but she was positive that anyone who saw them would know what had happened recently. She felt embarrassed and ridiculously happy all at the same time.

It was an odd feeling.

As soon as they walked in the door, all eyes falling on them, Gold turned to her and lifted her hand to press a kiss to it. "You need to get ready. And _I_ need to get a bit of work done before we get underway."

"Of course," Belle murmured. "I'll see you soon?"

"Count on it."

And then they went their separate ways. Gold to his office, Belle to see Ariel and the make-up artists. They weren't going to let Regina's theft deter them. In fact, they were more determined than ever to get this movie off the ground. Plans to continue filming were underway and Gold had been working out a schedule to redo the scenes they had already filmed if necessary.

Everything was progressing much better than she could have imagined.

She stepped into the hair salon to find one of the girls washing Ruby's hair and Ariel getting the curlers set for her. Ruby glanced up at her as she entered and it was perhaps only two seconds later that she pushed the girl away and jumped up, wet hair flying out about her and soaking the area.

"You got laid." She rushed Belle and hugged her, wet hair and all.

Belle pushed back from her and just stared at the taller women. "How do you _know_ that?" Ruby was a keen observer of the human condition, perhaps more so than Belle had ever realized.

"So you _did_! I knew it.” She dragged Belle over to one of chairs at the drying stations and forced her to sit down. "So spill it."

"Yes we did. And it was lovely. And can I get my hair done now please?" She turned to Ariel with an obvious plea on her face.

"Oh no," Ariel said. "I'm not getting in between this." Sitting down she gave Belle a slightly sheepish grin. "Besides, I want to know too."

Belle threw her hands up in the air. "Fine then." She didn’t feel the need to detail everything. She certainly didn’t want to tell all his secrets. Those were between her and Gold and no one else. So instead she detailed the date as best she could remember. The dinner, the desert, the library she couldn’t wait to explore. She hoped that she would get to spend more time there soon.

But that, of course, wasn’t what the girls _really_ wanted to know. Belle wanted to keep that to herself, wanted to hoard the memories, keep them close to herself. They were _hers_ after all. Moments that she hadn’t even realized she’d craved, she’d needed, she’d _wanted_.

She fended off the questions as best she could, but ended up telling them that it was the best sex she had ever had. “I didn’t have to _fake_ it, guys.”

Ariel gave her a confused look and both Ruby and Belle just laughed. She might do hair for the studio, but she did _not_ understand the industry. In a way Belle was thankful for that. Ariel was sweet, happy with her boyfriend and completely oblivious to everything that went on around her. She was sweet, but sometimes naïve. Belle missed those days. It had been a long time for her.

“Oh sweetie,” Ruby said, putting an arm around Ariel’s shoulders. “You didn’t think all that moaning and carrying on we do was _real_ , did you?”

“I…” Ariel paused. “I never really _watch_ what you guys do.” She gave a slight shudder that made Belle grin and Ruby actually look almost embarrassed.

"Well, we can't all appreciate a fine art form," Ruby said and for a moment Belle thought she was serious. But then her face broke out in a wide grin and Belle started to laugh again. Ariel just shook her head.

Ruby leaned forward. "So how big was his…"

"Ruby! _That_ is a detail I'm not going to share." Ruby just raised an eye and smirked. "I'm not." Ruby said nothing. "Fine then! I had nothing to complain about and that's _all_ I'm saying." She turned to Ariel then. "Now can we get this show on the road, please?”

With those words she dragged Ariel off to get her hair done, leaving Ruby to sit under the dryer by herself.

* * *

The cops had found their film. He couldn't even quite fathom how they had done it. Apparently a search warrant had been issued for Regina's house and they had found them sitting on the kitchen table.

It was easy.

_Too_ easy.

And that made him nervous. Regina was often rash, but it wasn't like her to be so careless. The fact that the cops had gotten in without hitting any sort of booby trap only to find the missing film right out in the open spoke to a trap of sorts. She simply didn't _do_ such things.

Admittedly, it was some ten years since he had laid eyes on the woman, though he had kept up with her career since he closed his own studio. But the Regina he knew had been her mother's daughter through and through. No conscience, no concern about anyone but herself. He couldn't have imagined the years would have made her a better person and seeing how she acted, what she had done recently, he had no doubt she was exactly as her mother had groomed her to be.

Ambitious to a fault.

She would never have simply left that film sitting out and would have fought like a tomcat to keep them from entering her house. So where was she? That was a mystery he intended to solve. The sooner, the better as far as he was concerned.

"Belle seems happy." Gold turned to see David Nolan behind him.

He didn't give the man the courtesy of a response to that. It seemed he had made it his business to intrude on his relationship with Belle and he really didn't deserve a response. Instead, he spoke quietly as he changed the subject. "They found the film."

"What?"

He turned slightly toward the other man. "This does not bode well."

"But they found it…"

"Yes."

"I don't understand the issue. We won…"

"We've done so such thing," Gold cut him off with.

“But…”

“No _buts_ , Mr. Nolan.” He met the man’s eyes squarely. “This isn’t over.”

The younger man watched him for a moment. He could feel his assessing gaze on him. He had been one of the ones to defend the production when Regina came to lambast it. He had stepped up, taken his rightful place as one of the stars of the production. For a moment longer Nolan watched him and then finally stepped forward and put his hand on his shoulder. “We’re all in this together.”

Gold gave a slight nod as the other man walked off.

“Well, isn’t that sweet?”

The voice that came from behind him was cold, harsh, and one he had hoped to never hear again in his entire life. He shifted slowly around, not wanting to give the other person the impression that he was panicked. Even if something shifted inside him and the old feelings came rushing back at him.

He hadn’t faced it then. But he was a different person now, stronger. He had walked away then, turned away from her and everything she represented. He could walk away again.

Once he took her down for good.

“Cora.” His voice was cold, hard. He narrowed his eyes on her. She was nothing more than a tumor that needed to be excised from his life for good. She would keep coming back, the cancer that he would think was gone, but he was never quite free of.

“Hello, darling.” She moved closer to him then and he had to resist stepping away from her. Let her get close. She would not get the better of him, would not force him into a retreat.

“So you were behind this then.” It was a statement, not a question. Regina was good, but her mother was better. Regina got what she wanted through brute force and intimidation. Cora knew how to get everything through subtle behind-the-scenes manipulation. He had no doubt that she had put Regina up to it.

Or rather, she had manipulated her to believe this was what she wanted.

“Did you think it was someone else?” Her laugh was harsh, guttural. There was no amusement in that laughter. It sent a cold feeling down his spine as he watched her smile that triumphant smile he had seen so many times before.

He matched her, smile for smile, laugh for laugh, his smile not quite reaching his eyes and his laugh sounding like broken glass. “Of course not. I’m just surprised you’ve shown yourself this early in the game.”

“Early?” He would have thought she sounded incredulous if he didn’t know her better. Cora was a good actress. But he _knew_ her. Knew her far better than he wanted to. And really, he sometimes thought he knew her far better than she knew herself.

He took a step toward her. “Oh yes…I assumed you’d show your hand only after you brought this production to its knees.”

“And you don’t think I’ve done that?” She stepped closer to him, mirroring his own body language, a strange sort of dark dance that they picked up from where they had left off.

“You don’t know then.” It was a trap. He still knew it was a trap. But a part of him couldn’t stop himself from trying to goad her on.

“Of course I do.”

“What exactly do you want here, Cora?” He tried to keep the exasperation and annoyance out of his voice, but it crept in anyway.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" Her voice turned to somewhere between a purr and a pout. Stepping closer, she reached out a hand to touch his face and he flinched back. Not much, but just enough. Enough to tell her he was uncomfortable. Enough to tell her he didn’t want her here. "You still believe that old story don’t you?"

"Because it's _true_." She could twist things all she wanted. He knew the truth. He knew what _really_ happened that day he ended up in the hospital. Once the fog of pain and medication cleared away, he had seen it as clear as day. "I will ask you again…"

"I only want what's best for my daughter," she cut him off with, her voice still calm. Amazingly calm. She always had been, as if her heart pumped ice instead of blood. She was the master of cold disdain and heartless words that cut right to the chase. "She wants this movie. And so she will have it."

"You'll have to kill me first," he growled at her. "Regina is getting nothing out of me." He pushed closer to her, teeth bared, hand clenching his cane tightly. "You'll get even less."

Cora let out a small bark of laughter, though there was no real humor behind it.

"Ruairidh?"

Belle's voice coming from behind him was both a soothing balm and a reason for anxiety. This time he did whip around, his eyes finding her at the entrance to the studio. She had been readied for filming, her hair perfectly coifed, her make-up on, the short skirt that flared out about her hips showing off her legs to great effect.

She looked beautiful.

And so very vulnerable standing there with her eyes wide as she watched what was going on.

Cora was still standing close, too close. If someone didn't know the situation, it was easy to see two lovers standing there. Unless they looked closely at the tenseness in Gold's shoulder. Unless they saw how cold Cora's eyes were. Cora could never be someone's _lover._ She chewed people up and spit them out, drew them in and destroyed their lives. She did not love. He was not sure she was capable of such an emotion.

"And who is _this_ little flower?" Cora asked, her gaze turning on Belle. Gold tried to wave her back, hoped that his gaze would tell her to step back, get out, _run_.

But she didn't. Not his brave little Belle. She probably didn't have it in her. Running away was his game. Running and hiding was what _he_ was good at. Not Belle, though. She stepped further into the room, chin up and all he wanted to do was rush to her and protect her.

She wouldn't appreciate that. He knew that…somehow. Belle had gotten the better of him more than once. She was fearless and kind and everything he was not.

"I'm Belle," she said and he watched in amazement as she somehow managed to maneuver her way between him and Cora. He didn't even know how she did it, so skillfully did she get him to step back and away from the other woman. Even Cora took a small step backward before she shook her head and drew herself up.

"Oh, aren't you the brave little child," Cora murmured.

"I'm not a child," Belle pointed out and for a moment she was sure she was going to leap at Cora. Her eyes had grown fierce, her mouth set, fists clenched. He didn't think she was one for physical violence but for a moment she _almost_ looked like she was considering it.

"Belle," he whispered and if it came out as more of a desperate plea than a warning, he didn't mean it to. He needed to protect her from whatever threat Cora represented.

"Oh, how sweet," Cora said, turning to glance at him. "Isn't she a little young for you, Gold?"

He started to speak but Belle beat him to the punch. "That's none of your business." Her voice was tight, annoyance clear. He had hoped she would have stepped away, pretended she wasn't involved, that she was just one of the actors. But not Belle. She couldn't quite do that.

"Oh I think it is," Cora responded with. "You see, you have something I want."

Belle gave her an assessing look. "And what is that?"

Gold had little time to react. Cora was standing calmly in front of Belle one moment, arms cross over her chest and lips set in a cold, bitter smile. The next she was in motion, reaching into a pocket of her coat with one hand as the other snaked around Belle's waist. Before he could even could even draw a breath, Cora had Belle pinned to her and he could see the glint of steel as she pressed the blade of a rather wicked looking knife against Belle's neck.

"I want that script, Gold." Her voice showed no signs of emotion and that alone was frightening. "And if you don't hand it over, your pretty little flower here is _going_ to die."


	16. Chapter 16

Belle wasn't even sure how it had happened. The sharp press of the knife at her throat was nothing more than a pricking sensation, but it told of her complete and utter doom, her downfall. Her father had always told her that her fearlessness would someday get the best of her. She was always the one to rush into the road to save an abandoned puppy, the type to chase after a purse snatcher. And then this…

Gold was watching the woman warily, his eyes dark, hooded. He gave away no real emotion, his face stony, his jaw clenched. She wasn't certain who the woman was, but the interest in the script told her she _should_ know exactly who she was. It wasn't the mother of Gold's child. She had apparently disappeared with their son. This was Cora and everything she had learned about the woman screamed _danger._ She would carry through with her threat if she had to. She was cruel, callous, a cold woman who walked over anyone in her way.

And right now that person was Belle. _Stupid_. If she had assessed the situation properly instead of feeling her heart sink into her stomach at the sight of the older woman caressing _her_ lover's face, she might have been able to call the police before this all went to hell.

"Ruairidh," she murmured again and felt the woman's grip tighten on her, the knife pressing just a little bit further into her neck. Cora's hand moved, just slightly, and it nicked her. She could feel a drop of blood wet on her neck, could see the way Gold took just one small step toward her, hand clenching and unclenching as he did so.

For a time no one moved. Belle drew in several shallow breaths, watching Gold, waiting. She didn't know what he'd do, backed into a corner like he was. Cora loosened her grip for a moment, tightened it again. Gold's hands clenched over his cane and she could see how white his knuckles were.

One wrong move and Cora could kill her. She'd bleed out in front of his eyes and there would be nothing any of them could do.

Gold finally nodded, just once. Very carefully, he stepped back and Belle felt the pressure at her neck easy. Only slightly. Cora wasn't going to release her just yet.

"Release her and I'll get the script," Gold said. His voice was quiet, too quiet. The word deadly came to mind and Belle feared he might do something stupid, rash. The movie wasn't worth all of this drama. It wasn't worth someone's life, not even hers.

Cora laughed and the sound was like nails on a chalkboard. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Gold didn't offer a response to that. Instead she watched him take a deep breath, hold it, and release it on a sigh. "Mr. Nolan!" he called and the volume of his voice in the quiet room made Belle jump slightly. Cora gripped her even tighter, hissing something incoherent in her ear.

It was a moment before David appeared, trotting easily into the room with a grin on his face that fell as soon as he laid eyes on Belle and the woman behind her. "Mr. Gold?" he asked and Belle could see him debating over whether or not he should make a daring rescue or make a run for it. Belle wanted him to do the latter. _Get out, stay safe_. If the rumors were true, he and his wife were expecting their first child. He didn't need to get mixed up in this nightmare.

"Mr. Nolan," Gold said again, softer this time. He didn't take his eyes off her and Cora the entire time he spoke. "Tucked away in the second draw of my desk, you will find the original script of the movie we're working on."

"The script?" She could almost imagine David scratching his head. The confusion was so very evident in his voice. Was it really worth _this_ much to anyone? Worth all the disasters? Worth a _life_?

"Yes, Mr. Nolan." He reached into a coat pocket and Cora tensed behind her.

"What are you…"

"Don't you worry, dearie." He pulled out a key and held it up in front of him. "The drawer is locked. You'll need this to get in." David stepped toward him and took the key from his hand. For a second, Gold turned to look at him, his eyes meeting the other man's, and Belle saw the silent communication that passed between the two.

"If you're not back in two minutes, your pretty little girl here is going to have some scars." Cora's voice was so matter-of-fact, Belle felt a shiver go down her back. "No funny stuff."

"Of course." David shot Gold one last look and then he was gone.

Gold turned back to them with and inclined his head. "You will have your script, Cora."

"Good." And Belle could hear the triumphant note to her voice.

"Now let her go." The words were firm, a demand not a request.

Cora laughed. "Do you think I'm that stupid? I'll let her go when I have that script in hand and not before."

Belle wasn't even sure she'd let her go then. From all accounts, the woman was a snake who had no regard for anyone but herself and _maybe_ her daughter. She wasn't even honestly sure she cared about her daughter. She knew little about Cora, admittedly, but what she had heard and what she was seeing now was nothing more than callous ambition.

"You know this can't end well, don't you?" Gold asked. He moved a little closer to them, his cane tapping lightly against the ground as he did so.

"Stay back!" Cora shouted, the word loud in Belle's ear. The older woman squeezed her almost painfully, the arm under her ribs causing her to wince in pain. "If you come any closer…"

"Yes, yes," Gold said and for a moment Belle thought he would ignore Cora's demand. He swayed slightly and then finally steadied himself with his cane. He kept his distance. "You do realize if you kill her that you're next, dearie?" Here his voice took on a dangerous tone. "Because all you have is that little knife and if she's dead, _absolutely nothing_ will stop me from killing you."

"All this for a porn star floozy?" Cora sounded incredulous, but Belle could also hear the pain in the words. "She's not _that_ pretty."

Belle couldn't help but roll her eyes. Thankfully, Cora couldn't see it, though Gold _could_ and the grin he gave her was one of absolute mirth.

"Is something funny?" Cora asked.

"You're jealous," he said in response and Belle bit her lip to stop herself from bursting out laughing. She was scared…for her life, for Gold's, for everyone's really. The woman was unstable and would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. And for such a ridiculous thing. A script for a movie. _This_ script. It was good. She knew that. It could be her introduction to a whole new world of movies. But it was _just_ a script.

Cora didn't get a chance to respond to Gold's accusation. The door to the studio burst open, the harsh thud of it causing Cora to whip around even as she tightened her grip on Belle. Belle attempted to squirm free but Cora's hold was too firm, too tight.

"Mother." Regina hissed the word as she stepped further into the studio. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, darling?" Cora's voice had softened, but there was still a coldness to it that left an icy feeling in the pit of Belle's stomach.

Belle finally couldn't keep her mouth shut. "Could we please just end this now?" She hated the way her voice shook as she spoke, hated the way Cora dug the knife point in just a little harder at her words. But she went on anyway. She would _not_ let this woman cow her. Belle had always been someone who stood up for herself. "The script is coming. Can't you just leave us all alone?"

"The script?" Regina asked as she looked from her mother to Gold and then back again. "This is about the script?"

"Oh darling, I told you that I would get you the script you wanted." She shook her head. "I'm just keeping my promise."

"Mother, you're holding a _knife_ to someone's throat." Belle was surprised at the alarm in Regina's voice. She made threats, she sabotaged the studio, but she had threatened no one's lives in all of this. She was starting to wonder how much of what had happened was Regina and how much of it was Cora forcing her daughter's hand. There was a dynamic there, not quite mother-daughter, but something else. It was almost as if Cora simply _owned_ Regina, body and soul, and the daughter did whatever her mother wanted.

It was an uncomfortable dynamic and Belle was certain it couldn't lead anywhere good.

"Regina, darling, it's the only way to get what I want." Cora sounded like she was explaining the alphabet to a toddler.

Regina's eyes grew a bit darker as she shot a look at Gold. It was almost an _understanding_ look, if Belle could define it. "Mother you have to put a stop to this."

"I will, darling. When I have the script for you. You want the script, don't you?"

Regina shook her head. "Well, yes…"

"And you shall have it." Cora started to step toward Regina but then stopped. Belle had hoped she'd forget about her to defend her position to her daughter. She had hoped she would loosen her hold so she could kick back and get away. But it was not going to happen. Cora kept her close.

"Not like this mother, please." Regina's voice had turned to a plea. "Let her go and we'll get the script another way."

"This is the only way…"

"Here," David Nolan said as he reentered the room, holding the script up.

"Excellent," Gold responded, reaching out to take the script from David. Belle watched another look pass between the two of them. Cora didn't seem to notice, or at least she gave no outward sign of it.

Gold stepped closer to where Cora still held Belle. "So a deal then, dearie?"

"A deal," Cora confirmed.

"You get this script. You get to do whatever the hell you want with it." He paused there and his eyes fell on Belle for just a moment. She smiled, or at least tried to. "And in exchange you leave me alone." Cora started to speak, but he held up a hand. "You leave Belle alone. You leave this whole studio alone. Forever."

Cora was silent for a moment, but Belle felt her hold on her loosen. "Deal." The word was soft but Belle felt she could _finally_ breathe. The knife was pulled away from her throat as Cora reached out and took the script from Gold.

"You always were a foolish one," Cora said and the words were so dark, so cold that they sent a chill up Belle's spine.

Everything happened almost at once in that moment. Cora's arm snaked back around Belle's waist and she started to haul her backward toward her. Belle tried to step away. Move. Get out. She heard Gold call her name, saw David step forward.

Belle bent over at the waist, just narrowly missing the knife that was coming back up to her neck, this time with purpose. Cora missed her mark, the knife hand moving harmlessly over her head. Bucking back, Belle tried to release herself from Cora's grip as David rushed toward them and Gold stepped nearer, his cane raised.

Something collided with her head, sending her away from Cora, the world spinning around her. Gold made an incoherent growling noise. David shouted. Belle's head hit the floor. Hard. Harder than she would have expected. Pain exploded behind her eyes and her vision went dark for a moment.

A gunshot went off.

A door was flung open.

She heard cursing and commotion and then there was someone at her side, gently touching her head.

"Don't move her," a voice called out.

"I'm damn well not leaving her _here_." Gold's voice. His hand was in her hair and she tried to open her eyes to reassure him she was ok, but that only made the dizziness worse. He was nothing but a blur at that moment anyway. She smiled, lifted one hand up just slightly. "Belle," he whispered. "I knew getting involved with me would be the worst thing for you."

And then the world went dark.

* * *

She was aware of the beeping before anything else. She could almost tap her foot along with it if she wanted to. It was slow, steady, walking tempo she realized. A moment later came the pain and she couldn't stop the slight moan that escaped her as she tried to fight her way out of the fog she was in.

Her eyes opened, just slightly, and then closed against the bright light in the room. "Bright," she murmured.

"Nurse!" She recognized that voice. She was sure she did. "Nurse!" It came again and still that sense of recognition, like she knew him from somewhere outside this fog.

"Mr. Gold," she heard what must be the nurse admonishing the man. Gold. Of course she knew him. She could imagine him now, impeccable suit, shaggy greying hair, that ever present smirk that she sometimes saw become a genuine smile in her presence.

"She's waking up and it's too bright in here."

"We need _some_ light." The nurse sounded exasperated. "I need to take her vitals." Behind her eyelids, she could tell the lights had been turned off and then quickly turned back on again.

"Where I am?" Belle finally managed to get out.

"Sweetheart," Gold said and she felt his hand wrap around hers. It was the first time she'd heard him call her something other than her name.

"I like that," she murmured and opened her eyes, tried to focus on him again. She could see little more than the outline of his face and the dark circles beneath his eyes, before she was forced to shut her eyes against the light.

"Good," he murmured. "You were knocked unconscious…"

"Cora?" She remembered her suddenly, remembered the knife and the woman's cold cold voice.

"Dead," was the grim answer.

"Dead?" She couldn’t say she was unhappy at that. Cora had been a threat, willing to use violence to get her way. "You?" She was scared of that answer. She remembered his coming at Cora with his cane raised and wondered. He had a temper, that much she had seen. Would he destroy Cora through his rage?

"No."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Dead, she could live with. She could _understand_ it if he had been the one to take her out, but she was glad that she didn't even have to think about it. "How?"

"Regina." And for the first time he heard him utter her name with some sort of respect behind it. "Regina killed her own mother to stop her."

Regina had been a snake. That much Belle could remember. But her mother was worse. As she understood it, Regina had seen her mother go after Belle in one final attempt to take her out and had pulled the trigger on the gun no one knew she had. She had aimed to kill and her mother had gone down almost instantly, the bullet piercing her lung and felling her. She had bled out on the floor laying across Regina's lap. _This should have been enough_. Gold told Belle that Cora's final words were haunting, a quiet statement as to the nature of her relationship with Regina. She simply _hadn't_ been enough. And nothing would ever make it so.

The police had shown up mere moments later. David Nolan had called them while he was retrieving the script from Gold's office. Their exchange of looks hadn't been meaningless. David had known what Gold wanted and had done it, reporting the hostage situation. They had stumbled in to find Regina holding her dead mother, cradling her in her arms and crying, Gold standing over Belle, like a protective angel of death. David Nolan had been the one to explain the situation to the stunned officers.

Ultimately, Regina had been arrested on charges of theft and sabotage and released on her own recognizance to attend to her mother's funeral. No charges had been levied against her for that and Gold had suspected that she would be cleared of any wrongdoing in her mother's death and perhaps even lauded as a hero for saving Belle's life.

"You're ok with that?" Belle murmured. She couldn’t get her voice above a whisper and Gold leaned closer, cupped her face with his hand.

"You're alive. That's all that matters." And she heard the honesty behind his voice, the truth of the words. "I thought I had lost you." His voice broke on the last syllable and she managed to open her eyes for just a moment to see the pain etched into the lines of his face, the tears at the corner of his eyes.

"Hey," she whispered. "I'm here." She tried to squeeze his hand, but she still felt so weak.

"This is my fault," he said as he bowed over her hand, pressed his lips to the back of it. "All my fault. If I hadn't been so arrogant…"

"You couldn't have known…"

"But I did. I knew Regina. And I knew Cora. And I still kept going." His hand shook in hers and Belle felt her heart rip just a little.

She tried to sit up slightly, tried to look him straight in the eyes. "This is _not_ your fault." The emphatic statement took a lot out of here and she slumped back onto the bed. "What happened to me?"

"Cora reached out with the knife and missed. She hit you hard in the head with the side of it. You fell and…" He choked on the words. "I couldn’t get to you in time. No one could. You hit the ground hard. The sound of it…"

"I'll be fine."

"I know." And for the first time she heard a bit of a smile behind the words. "They want to keep you overnight for observation."

"And then I'll be right as rain." She could feel herself drifting a bit, whatever pain medication they had her on wanting to drag her back under.

He was quiet for a moment, but his voice startled her half-awake again. "Belle?"

"Yes, Ruairidh?" She found her tongue tripping oddly over his name. It wasn't hard to pronounce, not really at least, but her mouth had trouble forming the syllables.

"When this is all over…" He paused there and Belle managed to slit her eyes open for a moment and watch his blurry form. "Would you consider marrying me?"

She felt joy well up inside her and tried to smile, though she was sure it was somewhat lop-sided. "Of course." Her eyes drifted shut, but before they did she could see the smile break out on his face, could feel him press kisses to the hand he held in his own.

"I love you," he whispered and she finally gave into her body's need for rest. There would be much to discuss in the near future but none of that mattered so much as their being together did. She couldn't wait to get out of that hospital and onto their new life together.


	17. Epilogue

He watched her, his new wife of just two weeks, as she stared at the crowd around her. The press of people, the flashing cameras, the shouts, the excitement. Her eyes were wide and he couldn't help but smile at her childlike wonder.

"Red carpet and everything?" She turned to look at him and the smile she wore was so brilliant he almost had to close his eyes against it.

"They usually do for movie premieres." After Belle had gotten out of the hospital, things had returned to what he would consider fairly normal for movie filming. The original films had been returned, the cast continued in their support of him, pulling out all the stops in their performances. The critics who had seen the first releases of the films had raved about it, calling it comic genius and lauding the performances of people that would usually be overlooked by the industry.

Articles had come out about how it was mostly a cast of former adult film stars and were awed at his bravery for taking on such a project. "The Little Engine that Could,” they called it. Many had watched it out of morbid curiosity and then had to admit that they were wrong about the cast. And they made sure the world knew it, too.

The premiere that night was packed and he watched in awe as Belle handled each photographer, each question asked her with an ease he hadn’t expected.

"You just married," one reporter began.

"We did," Belle responded with and turned her smile on him.

"Tell us how the wedding was."

"Private," Gold growled at the person and Belle just laughed.

"Ruairidh," she admonished him softly. "It was lovely, thank you," she said to the reporter, showing off the rings that adorned her left hand. Gold was proud of those. They were beautiful, but not overly large or ostentatious. They were perfectly _Belle_ and that was what mattered most to him.

One reporter started to ask about her previous career and Gold stepped up, pushing at the man with his cane. "We will not speak of that tonight. _This_ career is all that matters." The man fled quickly and Belle had only given him an admonishing look, followed by another brilliant smile. She was well used to his temper by now.

David Nolan was there with his wife and they followed behind them as they moved toward the theatre. Mary Margaret had taken up online teaching and apparently was quite good at it. David was proud of his wife and proud of their movie. He had made damned sure that everything went smoothly, even popping behind the camera if necessary. He was brilliant on screen, however, and the critics talked at length about what a promising future he had.

The biggest surprise of them all had been Ruby, however, who was close by Belle's side during the entire red carpet experience. Ruby had been well known for her "do it all" attitude in porn and, after a bit of coaching, had really shone as the kooky psychic in the movie. Already she had an agent and several offers on her plate. She had always sworn she would return to porn after the movie was made, but had apparently confided to Belle that perhaps it really was time to get out.

Leroy and Astrid had married not long before Gold and Belle did and the couple were milling about in the crowd somewhere. Leroy didn’t do too well with reporters, so despite his role in the movie, he hung back a bit, kept to the sidelines where he was able to be a part of it all without drawing attention to himself

Regina had, thankfully, disappeared after the showdown with her mother. Gold had gone to the police and requested that she not be charged in the theft of the film, insisting that it had been her mother's doing. The sabotage they were unable to tie to Regina as she had left no fingerprints or any other sign that she had been there. Unfortunately for poor Gaston, he _had_. From all accounts, he had been working for Regina ever since his dismissal and had been the one to do her dirty work. The cops dusted the safe for fingerprints and found Gaston's all over them. He had been arrested on charges of theft and breaking and entering and was still awaiting trial. Gold would happily help take him down when the time was right.

They turned and posed for one more picture, Gold wrapping his arm tightly around Belle and holding her close to him. “So are you ready?”

“To see this?” She smiled up at him as he turned them away from the journalists and photographers. “Absolutely.”

Together they entered the theatre and settled into their seats. When the lights went down a little while later, he reached out and took her hand, entwined their fingers and leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek. “This is just the beginning of something amazing, my love.”

“I hope so,” she whispered back and settled in to watch the movie, head on his shoulder, hands entwined. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was _exactly_ where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you EVERYONE for all your kind comments and notes and kudos. This has been quite the crazy AU I embarked upon and most of you were right there with me reading it. So much love and thanks from my little corner of the world!


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